


Canis Minor (part 2)

by FrankenBean



Series: The Black Night Sky [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But legit, Canon Compliant, Deals with nightmares and past trauma, F/F, F/M, Gen, I have chosen to not be historically accurate with medication for ADHD, I put the archive warning in to be responsible, Nothing is really that graphic, Plot slightly deviant from canon, Pretty Fluffy generally, Protagonist has ADHD, Protagonist suffers from panic symptoms relating to PTSD, Setting is in 90s at Hogwarts and South of England during Holidays, So it is a bit more scary than the last one., This one does have boggarts in, and I am not about that life., and we do revisit some of the creepy stuff from the Chamber of Secrets, cause the 90s were a pretty dark time to be ADHD, general teen and up audiences should be fine, there is a murder, there is reference to dementors sucking out souuls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankenBean/pseuds/FrankenBean
Summary: After a rather distressing end to her first year at Hogwarts, Jamie returns home for the summer to deal with homework, friendships and the occasional nightmare, hoping her second year at school will be more peaceful. But a peaceful year doesn't look to be in store when news of a prison break hits the wizarding world. Now she must face a whole new year of adventures, exploration, learning, and that one stray dog she keeps seeing around the forest.I genuinely don't know how to do summaries but basically, if you haven't read Canis Minor (part 1) none of this story is gonna mean much. So do go read that, it's the first part of the "Black Night Sky" series.Join us in watching Jamie grow to be the sassy little shit she was destined to become in this next part of her story. There will be pranks, there will be adventuring and there will be a werewolf who is just trying his best to do his job. There will also be plenty more Buckbeak love than the original book had.
Series: The Black Night Sky [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1457380
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	1. Of Monsters, and Men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may still tweak this later but wanted to get things moving.

The late June air was sticky and humid and did not give the same refreshing hit that a breath normally did while running. It was only about five AM, the time of dog walkers, joggers, business owners, and the occasional person who was just heading home after a long night out.

Jamie had been having a very good dream, the first in a long time. It was of a sweet, calm summer when she was very young. The memory had been so vivid she could have sworn she had smelled the pine and meadow grass. She had been about five years old and her mother had woken her up early one Saturday morning with a mischievous smile and a “Let’s go on an adventure, little one, what do you say?”

The two had piled themselves into their battered Volkswagen with not much more than a tent and a bag of clothes.

Looking back, Jamie realised this had probably been her mother’s way of getting them to move to a new place when she felt they had lingered too long. “An adventure.” She’d call it that so her daughter would be excited, always ready to go. But it was more than that, she honestly always had made it into an adventure. She had not been sure if anyone was still looking for them or if they had given up long ago, she kept moving in case it was the former, but never made it about running away.

Of course, as Jamie got a bit older she had found out bits and pieces, learned why they avoided large towns and cities., her mother never lied about any of it. Death Eaters, the servants of the darkest wizard in recorded history, were known to hold grudges, and Jamie’s mother had been a very good spy during the war and betrayal was not something Death Eaters easily forgave. Jamie and her mother stayed hidden and moved frequently, just in case anyone from those days was still after vengeance.

The “adventure” that time had meant travelling North-West, where there were more hills and the forest opened out to grassy plains every here and there.

Her mother was a researcher, within both the muggle and magical world, and while she couldn’t really go about publishing anything for the magical world, that hadn’t stopped her from researching.

There had been their pitstop near a lovely babbling brook, where her mother had held her close and quiet and pointed out the water sprites on the opposite bank, or hushed her gently when an Elwedritsch came out of the trees to drink. They were bizarre-looking creatures with a chicken-shaped body, duck feet and bill and a small pair of antlers.

They had stopped for a night at a little campsite where a couple who seemed to know her mother had come over to talk to her and share news while Jamie helped build a raging bonfire with the couple’s two children. Her mother introduced them as Hermann and Laura and the children as Jens and Pieter. Around the fire, the couple had told ghost stories, laughing when the children shrieked and hid behind their hands. Jamie’s favourite story had been about Wolfin, a werewolf from hundreds of years ago who, while shunned from society, spent his days fishing, and at night left parcels of fish on the windowsills of poor families in the villages he passed through.

“But why did people treat him badly then? He was nice!” Jamie had asked at the end.

Hermann had worn a sad smile and answered. “People must have mistaken him for a Beerwolf.” He had said.

“What’s a Beerwolf?” she had asked

“It’s a monster. You see, people tend to think monsters are something a being just is or isn’t. Not True! There are no such things as monsters. Only monstrous deeds and the beings that do them. Beerwolf is the name we give werewolves who hurt for pleasure. It isn’t the wolf going mad, Beerwolfe are monsters even when they look human.”

The next morning after Jamie had hugged Jens and Pieter goodbye, much to their bewilderment, Laura had given her a warm smile and thanked her for being kind. When Jamie had been confused, she explained that people often mistook them for Beerwolfe. Jamie had looked back at her friends, noticed faint silvery scars on their arms and faces and her confusion had grown “but why?”

Laura had shrugged and just said, “People see monsters in what they don’t understand.”

Jamie had asked her mother everything she could about werewolves as they continued their journey, but there wasn’t too much to know as most people were too scared to research them. Her mother had mentioned that she had met Hermann and Laura a few years earlier to teach them how to brew a new potion that would help them. “Apparently it tastes awful and the ingredients are expensive, but it helps.”

They had driven most of the next day, stopping in the afternoon for a thrown together picnic. They had fallen asleep in the shade of a huge oak tree and awoken under a cloudless sky full of stars. Jamie’s mother had whispered for her to stay quiet, pointing down the meadow to where bizarre figures stood. 

“Centaurs.” Her mother had whispered “They’ve come out to read the stars. We should go before we disturb them.”

Jamie remembered quietly helping to gather up their things and turning to catch one last glimpse at the centaurs when one had turned his gaze from the heavens to look at them. Her mother had ducked her head and curtsied and Jamie hurried to do the same. But then the dream had begun to change into a nightmare. The meadowscape turned rapidly into a corridor of stone. The soft blue starlight turned to cold, sickening green torchlight. The centaur that had turned to watch them bucked and reared as chains slithered up to capture him. There had been a chilling “hiss” from above and the centaur froze solid, horrified and rearing.

Jamie had woken, biting her lip to keep from yelling, she found her mouth bloodied. Bast had clambered on top of her and was looking concerned.

Jamie had stroked Bast until her breathing matched that of the cat on top of her before getting up, splashing cold tap water on her face, getting dressed and slipping out of the house to run until the sun rose and bathed the little town in stifling humid warmth.

It had been so nice to dream of her mother again, not her mother’s death but her mother. Alive, vivacious and ready with answers to just about any question her mind had been able to think up. Jamie avoided her usual route with the meadow and the stream and the fairies. It was too similar a place to her dream. Instead, she stuck to the town itself, eventually popping herself down on a bench in a well-maintained park near the library. She then pulled out her sketchbook from her backpack. There was nothing for it. Ever since the end of her last school year, she had been having nightmares regularly. And every morning she sketched them, the beings she saw, every detail that she remembered.

She had taken a book out of the library about horses and their colours. This Centaur had looked like a Flea Bitten Grey. Near pure-white baring the speckles. This had risen into a dark human torso. A strong brow ridge, with large pointed ears holding back dreadlocked hair which was ebony but greying at the temples.

Once she had sketched as many details as she could remember, Jamie put away her sketchpad. There was an elderly couple strolling the path in the early morning light and she had learned from prior experience that older people liked to make polite conversation and were curious… and weren’t too pleased by young people who sat drawing horrifying nightmare scenes in the pleasant, peaceful morning park spaces.

She gave herself a stretch, which Bast mirrored, before smiling politely at the elderly couple and taking off home.

The Harrises were awake and making breakfast when she got in. They had asked her to start calling them by their first names a while ago but she had only just gotten the hang of it and still thought of them as “The Harrises” in her head sometimes.

“Jamie?” Arnold Harris called from the kitchen, “We thought you were having a lie-in, when did you go out?”

Jamie kicked off her shoes before heading into the kitchen. “Early. I left a note.”

“Ah, yes, found it.” Mr Harris said, grabbing it off the fridge. “Everything alright?”

“Just couldn’t sleep.” Jamie lied. She hated lying, especially to the Harrises, but she hated their pitying looks any time she mentioned her mother more. And she couldn’t exactly tell them she had had a horrifying and traumatic experience at school that had triggered her to draw grotesque pictures. But clearly, the lie rang false enough that they heard something in her voice. Or maybe it was just the darker marks beneath her eyes. 

The Harrises exchanged a look before Julia conversationally mentioned, “You’ve got a session with Dr Clarson next week. Might be worth a mention if you’re having trouble sleeping.”

Jamie knew that sometimes Julia stayed up late just to check in on Jamie, she didn’t want her worrying. “Was just the heat I think.” She lied again.

“All the same,” Julia smiled softly, giving her hand a squeeze, clearly not having bought the excuse at all.

It was Monday, so the Harrises were headed off for work for the day. Jamie showered and got ready to start her day. She had quite a bit of Holiday homework to do, including a timeline summary of the major historical events they had covered last year in History of magic, a Herbology project where she had to find, draw and label leaves of 5 plants of her choosing, and a rather nasty potions glossary. But that was almost the least of her concerns.

At the end of term, Professor Sprout had taken her aside and they had gone through what Hogwarts subject would correlate with what muggle school subject for when her results were sent. As exams had been cancelled, results were based on predicted grades the teacher had made based on classwork.   
To say that her Defence Against the Dark Arts grade was abysmal was an understatement given their professor. Jamie had decided to assign that to “English” which she had never been particularly good at in primary school, so the grade would not look so out of place. Charms was assigned to “Maths” which she had always loved, while Herbology, Potions and Transfiguration were “Biology”, “Chemistry”, and “Physics” respectively, leaving History of Magic to be noted down as “History & Geography” and Flying classes were assigned to “P.E.”. Astronomy was just left as “Astronomy” for simplicity.

Professor Sprout had been confused by the whole thing, when other students from Muggle households were informed about magic, but Dumbledore had assured her that there was precedent for the situation in cases in the past where students came from orphanages or similar temporary guardianship.

The problem was, Jamie hadn’t ACTUALLY studied any of those subjects in a year, and the Harrises were involved and caring guardians. While her Hogwarts grades were decent for the most part, she was all too aware that they would not reflect her knowledge of the muggle subjects muggles her age would know. The Harrises were emphatic on wanting to keep her knowledge up over the holidays, which meant rather a lot of learning things from scratch. 

The first thing Jamie had done upon getting home was to go to the town library and get out as many normal school textbooks as possible, in order to at least try and have some idea of what muggles her age had learned in the previous year. At least her poor grasp on English Language techniques would be accurate to her grades. But the Science subjects had gotten a whole lot more interesting and complicated and Maths just wasn’t the sort of thing you could blag your way through. At least History was roughly the same so long as you removed the magic bits. Professor Binns had started the year with a “Basic European Geography” topic for the sake of at least contextualising where things were happening, but really, her geography was hopeless too.

There were topics like the water cycle, the lunar cycle and the tides, there were different types of maps and how to read them and Jamie couldn’t for the life of her remember the difference between a conclave and a convex slope. Even History had some unfamiliar topics like Crime and Punishment through time. As far as Jamie knew, there was only one Wizard Prison, and from what they had seen of Hagrid at the end of the last school term, it was horrible.

After saying goodbye to the Harrises as they left for work, Jamie cleared her desk of the vast assortment of confusing topic areas to focus on one which she found absurdly horrific. Shakespeare. She had picked up “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” when she saw the fairies on the cover, but the whole thing was a mess. There was a play within the play, unnecessary drama and the language defied everything she had ever been taught about spelling.

When she had had as much as she could stand of Shakespeare, she turned to some of her real homework, but her attention dipped and dived until she found herself lying sprawled on her bed going through her post instead. 

Michael had let everyone know to owl post for Jamie to him and he sent it on, either through the Royal Mail or in person. Julia Harris and Susan Cromwell had become thick as thieves, and since the Cromwells lived only an hour away in London, they had already seen each other a few times since the holidays began.

There was a letter from Mr Pilchard who acted as Jamie’s social worker to the muggle and magical world. He had not been best pleased by the complete lack of information that had been sent out by Hogwarts regarding The Chamber of Secrets. Jamie had done her best to explain how the situation had been resolved, limiting information regarding her own involvement. He had seemingly accepted this with the stern suggestion that she “avoid that Potter boy and his friends as much as possible” given that it seemed he had a penchant for trouble finding him.

There was also a letter from Kargrot the Goblin… well, not a letter as much as a report. He had facilitated the transaction between Jamie and the Goblin kingdom in order to allow for the use of the money sorting and accounting system Jamie’s grandmother had patented. The report broke down this month's accounts. Jamie received payment for the patent, while the goblins received shares for the building and installation of devices into vaults that paid for them.

A by-line was added regarding whether it would be prudent to extend the same contract to Gringotts internationally, followed by a list of recommended investment opportunities.

By Goblin standards, this letter was exceedingly friendly and familiar, bordering on comradery. Most Goblins held the blanket belief that all wizarding folk were basically hopeless at financial minded decisions, (a belief Jamie felt was fairly reasonable given how most of wizardkind stopped all education in mathematics as soon as they started at Hogwarts.) and most of wizardkind never bothered to ask for financial counsel or even treat the Goblins with any more respect than thinly-veiled enmity. But Jamie was happy to have this connection. 

Kargrot had gained promotion for securing the contract with her and recognised that she valued his counsel. She drafted a response, looking over the investments carefully. Mr Harris often read the financial section of his newspapers and had tried to explain the basic concept to her but it still boggled her mind a little.

Jamie indicated in her response that she did not know how international Goblin affairs worked but if Goblin kingdoms from different countries interacted similarly to human occupants of different countries, then it would likely be best to have the British branch of Gringotts manufacture and assemble the devices so that they might take manufacturing and assembly fees while the international branches collected installation and rental fees. However if Gringotts operated under a united Goblin government, then it would likely be more cost-effective to send out the manufacturing and assembly instructions. “Outsourcing” is what Mr Harris had called it when grumbling over the current economic climate once.

She explained that other than that, she was fine with the arrangement, added a byline asking for any more information regarding the investment opportunities, before sealing it into an envelope and then putting that envelope into one addressed to Michael.

She finished up a few other letters to Vee, Grace, Neville, Luna with updates on her holiday and homework Michael himself was sent letters as well, but mostly as a joke since they saw each other so often, his letters contained everything about grousing about homework to some of the horrifically bad puns his mother had told him, which Jamie countered with a list of humorous scenarios she had witnessed of Mr Harris misplacing objects. 

She had even received a letter from Ginny Weasley earlier in the month which had updated her on the antics of her many siblings “Fred’s grounded for exploding George’s eyebrows off.” and “Percy’s his usual boring self.” Another letter from her had come only a few days ago exclaiming excitedly that her father had won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw and that they were all currently in Egypt visiting her oldest brother Bill who worked as a curse breaker. She explained that her mother had worried about her after the last term, to such a degree that she was instituting a rule about having to send at least one letter a fortnight in order to make friends. She had sent one to Luna since the girls were practically neighbours and wanted to know what were the best topics of conversation to have with the Ravenclaw. She had ended her letter with a blow-by-blow account of a Quidditch match she had witnessed in Egypt.

Jamie hadn’t really known how to respond regarding the quidditch commentary, but in the spirit of things, had tried to explain what Lacrosse was since that was the only team sport she watched when Mr Harris and herself went to support Mrs Harris who coached a junior team on weekends. She also mused that going to Egypt for a holiday probably wasn’t the most substantial grounding Fred could have received and hoped George’s eyebrows had been grown back in time for them to help keep sand out of his eyes.

Gathering up all the letters she headed out once more into the sticky sunlight, walking the few blocks to the post box and enjoying the slight breeze that indicated that a welcome thunderstorm might be on the horizon.

When she returned, however, she was in for a shock. For in the driveway, looking rather harassed and frantic, stood Mr Pilchard, peering through the front window and pacing back to the front door to knock hurriedly.

~ ~ ~

The reason for Mr Pilchard’s frantic visit haunted Jamie for days afterwards. She had let him into the house and after sitting down with a mug of tea he had pulled a thick newspaper out of his briefcase.

There, on the front page of the Daily Prophet was a mugshot of a gaunt face surrounded by matted, elbow-length dark hair. A prisoner, marked as “Prisoner ᛈᛉ390” stared out of the magical newspaper spread with hollow sunken eyes. The snippet underneath the image declared:

“Sirius Black, known to many as He-who-must-not-be-named’s right-hand man during the War, has escaped from his maximum-security cell in Azkaban. It is as yet unknown how he managed this, however, readers are warned not to approach or engage him if he is spotted. Black is HIGHLY dangerous. If seen, readers are encouraged to immediately owl or Floo the Auror department with details of the sighting.”

“It’s even been released to muggle news stations, though, of course without as many details.” Mr Pilchard said, “I expect it will be on the evening news.”

Jamie felt cold all over but looked up from the paper, and calmly asked “Okay, but why were you so frantic? You looked like you were about to blast the front door down.”

“Well, aside from the fact that a maniac is on the loose, no I suppose there wasn’t much to panic about!” Mr Pilchard answered with a grunt. “Except, of course, that he knew your mother and everyone thinks he’s going after that Potter kid you mentioned. Apparently he kept repeating the words “he’s at Hogwarts” in his sleep before the escape. But no, nothing at all to worry myself about! Not like he was the right-hand man of the darkest wizard of our time. Not like he escaped an inescapable prison. Not like your mother was murdered by another of “Voldemort’s” supporters since apparently that lot doesn't let anything go even after almost 9 years. Maybe it was an overreaction, but better that than under-react… again…” He went silent and seemed to fume at himself for a bit.

Jamie had always found it funny how she had seemingly picked up her penchant for ranting from Gabriel Pilchard, how she had learned from him and her mother not to be afraid of the name “Voldemort”. But after last year, he maybe had a point to his concern.

Jamie allowed herself another glimpse at the sunken eyes in the newspaper. “Wasn’t…” she paused, trying to string the words correctly. “Wasn’t he the one mum refused to believe was guilty?” She didn’t really have to ask, she knew the answer.

Mr Pilchard’s eyes flashed to Jamie. “You were very young when I brought her that news, can’t believe you actually remember it. But yes, they were friends at school. It took me a few years to cover her tracks paper trail-wise and then the war ended and we kept having to move you two, but eventually, when things were a little calmer, she asked me about news from home, asked me about her friends. She didn’t want to believe me when I told her about what had happened to the Potters, but she refused point-blank to believe me about Black, called me a liar even, but by all accounts, Black is one of the worst, betrayed even his closest friends. You know I always wondered…. no, nevermind. In any case, after that, she mostly made her own way. Contacted me in emergencies. In any case, if the ministry is to be believed and Black is after finishing what he started by killing the Potter’s son, I want you nowhere near him!”

“Please don’t tell me you’re actually considering pulling me from school because of this?!” Jamie exclaimed. “I don’t even really know the Potter kid!”

Mr Pilchard looked like he had bitten into a lemon. “I’m only trying to be cautious.”

“Caution is one thing, but how much more notice do you think I would get being pulled out of school? And what then, would I transfer to a different school or are you going to have me spend my entire life on the run, learning snippets of magic from books and pretending to be a muggle?” Jamie asked incredulously.

“Well… no, I suppose not, but after last year, and if the stories are true about the year before that, it seems as though Hogwarts is a veritable hot-bed of attracting danger.”

“Everywhere’s dangerous in some way or another. The man who killed my mum…” Jamie swallowed, hating that she had no name or alternate description. “He thinks I am dead! He saw my mangled bloody, unbreathing self on the riverbed that day. Even if he walked right up to me, I doubt he’d recognise who I was. This Black guy has only just escaped from prison, has no real reason to come after me, and even if he did, isn’t the entire focus of the Ministry of Magic going to be on tracking him down?” Jamie reasoned.

Mr Pilchard let out a long drawn out sigh “I suppose so… all the same, I’d prefer it if you keep your head down. You said in your last letter that Susan Cromwell was taking you shopping for school supplies? Isn’t she a muggle? Not very good protection -”

“Yes, Susan Cromwell is a muggle, but we’re meeting up with Luna, Luna’s Dad, Neville, Neville’s grandmother, Grace, Grace’s parents and Vee and her parents since Neville’s birthday was at the end of the month and Vee’s is at the end of this one. That’s a lot of magical protection on the off chance that some demented wizard decides to hit up the busiest magical shopping district in broad daylight randomly on the same day I am there.” Jamie interrupted.

Mr Pilchard had eventually calmed down and finished his tea. He had left behind the newspaper for Jamie to catch up on what was going on in the world, but she had locked it promptly in the magical compartment of her school trunk. She didn’t really like magic photographs at the best of times, it rang a little too close to the idea from folklore and superstition that believed a photograph could steal your soul, but mostly, it was the eyes, the hollow, desperate, staring eyes, that creeped her out.

But there was no getting around the images in Diagon Alley. Equipment lists arrived in the second week of August. As expected, Jamie’s grades hadn’t been wonderful, not bad, particularly for Charms and Transfiguration, the rest being fairly average. She liked academics, she didn’t, however, particularly like extended periods of studying. Surprisingly, however, a reasonably decent grade had been assigned to Defence Against the Dark Arts with a note about an “extra-credit project.” having boosted the original grade.

Susan Cromwell was as sly and cunning as her son, and while she seemed to adore her new friendship with Julia Harris, she had fully gotten on board with helping Jamie get around the Harrises not being allowed to know about magic.

She had arranged a meet up for late-August, during the middle of the week for Jamie and Michael to meet up with some other school friends. The Harrises had been upset about missing out on back to school shopping last year, but if Jamie picked up her new school books while she was out, it was just smart shopping, they could still do regular shopping together later.

The group of friends met up outside of Flourish and Blotts at eleven o’clock, the children accompanied by their designated adults. Jamie was rather taken aback by Neville’s grandmother. She was a tall, thin, bony sort of woman with a stern face and the most extraordinary wardrobe, including a large stuffed vulture sewn onto her wide-brimmed hat. Jamie secretly wondered what sort of charms were needed to keep the hat brim upright underneath such a monstrously large bird, even if it was stuffed.

The adults didn’t really seem to know what to make of each other. Mr Lovegood and Mrs Longbottom knew each other by reputation and neither seemed particularly pleased by each other’s company. Vee’s mother seemed very charmed by Mrs Cromwell, being muggleborn herself, while Grace’s mother did a rather extraordinary job of pretending not to know what she was talking about when discussing anything remotely muggle.

The children, on the other hand, took off running to see everything and anything they wanted to peruse. Grace and Vee wanted to try on a variety of hats in a second-hand clothing store and had not given up until the others had joined them in trying on as many ridiculous hats they were able to find. Jamie actually quite liked a nice wide-brimmed witches hat that was covered in rainbow sequins. Unfortunately, it flopped down over her eyes, ruining her dramatic pose in front of the shop mirror.

Next, they wandered through the magical menagerie, oohing at kittens and sleepy-looking owls and the vast assortment of toads.

“I know people think toads aren’t that cool,” Neville said admiring a large orange and purple spotted specimen, “But I wouldn’t trade Trevor for anything. You wouldn’t find a cat or an owl that wanted to hang out in a greenhouse all day.”

“Oi, Nev, did we ever tell you how last year we were worried Trevor had accidentally fathered a baby version of Slytherin’s monster?” Michael had shouted from the other side of the shop earning a reproachful glare from a branch of owls.

None of them were particularly bothered with looking in the Quidditch supply store, which was good since the shop seemed to be bursting at the seams. Michael wanted to go to the apothecary to look at the vast array of slightly disgusting ingredients. 

Mr Mulpepper, the owner of the apothecary squinted at Jamie for a moment before tapping his nose and exclaiming “Boomslang skin!” Jamie burst out laughing at the curious looks her friends had given her, but Mr Mulpepper waved them on into the shop while he dealt with a customer.

Jamie explained about how last year she had identified real Boomslang skin in comparison to some fake ones while the group admired the buckets and barrels and jars, Vee with a squeamish look on her face.

“Come on, guys, the greenhouse is back here,” called Neville.

“Greenhouse?” Michael asked curiously. Sure enough, behind some rows of shelves of what looked like gizzards, in what looked similar to a large pub beer garden attached to the apothecary, was a large greenhouse with everything from seedlings to whole shrubs and trees. It felt sort of like a home away from home for the group. Despite the chaos of the previous school year, there had been the greenhouses as their sanctuary, with the deep, rich smells of damp earth.

It wasn’t until they were leaving the greenhouse, Neville laden down with a large pot of Ladies Mantle, nattering pleasantly about the properties of the dew collected by the plant, that they noticed the wanted poster on the greenhouse door. “Have you seen this Wizard?” in bold script along the top.

“Whatever you do later when we all get ice cream, don’t mention the jailbreak around my gran!” Neville said with a shiver, glaring at the poster.

“Why?” asked Vee curiously.

Neville sighed and hefted the pot he was holding a little higher. “I don’t really like talking about it… but well… The reason I live with my gran is because Death Eaters tortured my parents. They’re still alive, but they’re at St. Mungos. The healers aren’t sure how much they even understand anymore… his cousin was one of the ones who did it. There isn’t a darker family in Britain than the Blacks.” he said tiredly. “It just upsets gran that he got out, she’s worried if he can that others might.”

Jamie felt cold. She remembered her mother vividly, shouting angrily at Mr Pilchard. She remembered how that night she had snuck into her mother's bed and hugged her while she cried herself to sleep. She kept quiet.

“Gran gave me his wand, my dad’s I mean. He was an Auror and a pretty powerful wizard, I think she thinks it’ll bring me luck.” Neville was saying.

“Wait,” Jamie said, breaking out of her thoughts, “You don’t have your own wand?

“My dad’s works fine, makes me feel close to him, you know?”

“I mean, I guess… But Nev, wands almost always don’t work as well if they are second hand. You’re always saying you’re rubbish at spellwork but didn’t Professor Sprout also say your magical talents are quite different from your parents, maybe it’s the wand that’s holding you back?”

“I don’t know, I guess it’s possible, but it’s not like I can just tell gran I don’t want to use my war hero dad’s wand anymore,” Neville said with a grimace.

“So don’t tell her that. You can totally keep your dad’s wand for sentimentality and for your gran’s sake, but, if you’re up for it, I think I know what to get you for your birthday present!”

Neville blushed bright red right to the tips of his ears but the others had all exclaimed what a good idea it was and were volunteering to share the present. And so, without much further ado besides allowing Neville to pay for his plant, he was unceremoniously herded across the road toward Ollivander’s wand shop. They had a close shave when Michael spotted the vulture-hatted woman down the way and they all dived behind a towering pile of brass cauldrons. But they were soon piling into the old shop giggling.

“Mr Olivander?” Jamie called while the others hushed under the thick atmosphere of the shop.

“Ah, Miss Schwartz, hello there.” Mr Olivander said softly from where he had suddenly appeared from behind a side shelf. The others jumped but Jamie just grinned.

“We’ve come to get our friend Neville a wand,” she said by way of explanation for the small gaggle of teenagers squeezed into his shop.

Mr Olivander seemed unsurprised, “Ah yes, Mr Longbottom, your grandmother said you were using your father’s wand. Nothing’s happened to it, I hope.”

“No. No! gran would probably have skinned me alive if anything had happened to it.” Neville said hurriedly, still blushing pink.

“We were just wondering if a wand which had straight off the bat chosen him would work better for him,” Jamie explained.

Mr Olivander nodded sharply, “Yes, quite differently I am sure. Your father’s wand, Elm, fourteen and a half inches, dragon heartstring, I believe? Your grandmother said she wanted you to have it since Elm is known to produce the least magical errors, still, while I think you will grow to have the presence such a wand seeks out, it would not have been performing its best for you. But at least it wasn’t Ash.” he said conversationally.

He began the routine of taking measurements and asking questions before pulling out boxes. Neville seemed to grow more and more disheartened as the rejected pile grew but the others just nudged him, smiled and told him how many wands had not chosen them before the right one did.

Eventually, “Cherry, unicorn core, thirteen and a quarter inches, firm but springy.” was placed in Neville’s hand and he had found his match.

“People often underestimate a cherry wand, young man, just as people often underestimate their owners. But cherry wands, much like their owners are well known for their unshakeable inner strength. Remember that! And I think, hold on to this bunch of friends. A strong tree needs a supportive environment in which to grow.” Mr Olivander said nodding his head at the pot plant that Neville held.

The five friends contributed a galleon and some sickles each while Olivander packed up the wand and handed it to Neville who reverently put it away in his rucksack.

The sunlight outside Olivander’s was near blinding after the dim light in the shop but Jamie spotted a familiar cluster of redheads.

“Ginny!” Jamie called, waving the girl over “When did you get back from Egypt?” she was sporting a bit of a sunburn and far more freckles than the last time they had seen each other.

“A few days ago, we’re staying at the Leaky Cauldron until term starts up again,” she said glancing back at her family. Her mother was hovering worriedly and Ginny rolled her eyes. “Mum’s still worried about me.”

“We were all about to go get some ice cream if you wanted to come?” Jamie said nodding at the others who all nodded along.

“Oh.” Ginny said awkwardly, “I’m not sure, mum wanted to do the school shop.”

“We were going to do the school shop afterwards. Come on, you mentally fought off the darkest wizard ever known to try and give me a chance to run, the least I can do is get you an ice cream. Come on, it’s boiling out here.” with a mischievous grin to match Ginny’s, she pulled the ginger girl along by the elbow while calling back loudly, “Hi, Mrs Weasly, just stealing Ginny for ice cream.”

Mrs Weasley looked concerned for another second before wafting her hand and giving the group a wry smile “I’ll meet you at Flourish and Blotts.” She called to Ginny.

Through a mouthful of milk and white chocolate with macadamia nut ice cream, Ginny asked: “Did you guys see the Firebolt?!”

“The what?” asked Jamie.

“The Firebolt! It’s the newest, most perfect broomstick that’s just been released. Saw it in the shop window just now but mum wanted me to stay with her when the boys went off for a look.”

“Ohh…” said Jamie feigning interest “What’s good about it?”

Ginny gave her a dry look. “You don’t like Quidditch, do you?”

Jamie snickered. “I managed to go to two games last year and one of them was cancelled. I’ve nothing against it, I just think it should probably be updated with things like every team member having a reserve player to take over in the event of injuries; or basic standards for what weather people can play in. I mean I hate being cold, probably couldn’t stay on a broom if it got too cold. I don’t even like sitting in the stands when it’s that cold. Also, what is with the whole, “You have to play even if a bludger has been obviously tampered with and is trying to kill you” thing? That just seems… problematic.”

Ginny laughed “The risk is what makes it fun I guess.”

“I love Quidditch,” Neville piped in “Not keen on flying but love spectating.”

“None of you fly? We’re allowed to try out for our teams this year!” Ginny said aghast.

“I fly,” said Vee excitedly, “I’ve got a Cleansweep 12, but everyone knows the Slytherin captain never picks girls unless they have powerful patrons or are somehow brutishly strong. There hasn’t been a female captain since my parents were at school. It’s really irritating.”

Ginny seemed to do a double-take as though just realising she was in the company of Slytherins before settling. “That’s awful!”

Grace shrugged, “According to my cousin, they just realised that Ravenclaws always have the best tactics, they do have reserves and sometimes switch out players based on who they’re playing against. Gryffindors are about as competitive as Slytherins and for a while had a really good handover and training system. I hear that Wood bloke is a bit mental for all-weather training. They just figured large, brutish blokes were the way to go.”

“I notice you didn’t mention Hufflepuff in there at all,” Jamie smirked.

Grace snickered, “As far as I can tell Hufflepuffs come in two flavours, those who work really really hard at techniques, and people who just really enjoy playing the game. Too interested in fairness to beat Slytherins, too interested in enjoying the game to really be much of a challenge to Ravenclaw’s tactical analysis. They sometimes do okay against Gryffindor though.”

Jamie smirked, “I could totally beat you on a broom so long as it isn’t freezing cold. Which it is, in Scotland, most of the time.”

They spent the rest of the time looking over their equipment lists. Fortunately, they had hardly any books to buy this year, the Lockhart books of last year basically could barely be traded in for Tuppence and so were unceremoniously moved to the bottom of Jamie’s trunk at the start of the summer, but Jamie was pleased to note a new Defence book “The Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts” by Arsenius Jigger. Jamie had found out from Hermione and a few older students that they had been assigned “The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection” by Quentin Trimble in previous years, so Jamie decided to buy both, as well as the “Standard Book of Spells” grade 2 and 3 (for good measure). 

Neville was rather horrified by one of his assigned books “The Monster Book of Monsters” which snapped and bit the harried-looking shopkeeper.

“Maybe that book’s the reason Professor Kettleburn’s missing so many limbs.” Neville joked.

“Nah, Professor Kettleburn’s never assigned anything like this,” said George, who had wrestled his own book into a chokehold while his mother helped Fred do the same.

Soon enough, they had bought everything they needed. Jamie bought a pot of colour changing ink and a huge fluffy quill Vee had been eyeing for her birthday present and then checked in with Kargrot at Gringotts to see if everything was going well, but he was looking harried so he promised to write to her with an updated report in the following month.

Neville, Luna and Jamie were all staying over at Michael’s house for the night so they parted ways with the Weasleys, the Yardleys and the Elms as well as Luna’s father at the Leaky Cauldron.

The Cromwells and Jamie had travelled by Tube to get here, leaving their car at the station closest to their house. It was getting toward rush-hour now, however, whereas they had arrived in the relative sanity of the post commute period this morning.

Michael automatically took the lead next to his mother in pushing through the crowds, as a Londoner, he had no shame in shoving through the starry-eyed tourists and he was observant enough to have noticed how Jamie tensed up in crowds. Jamie grabbed hold of Luna’s hand to prevent her from getting lost in the crowds and then stayed as closely behind Neville and Michael as she could manage without stepping on their shoes. The Tube was horrifically packed but with enough shoving and elbowing Mrs Cromwell secured them a nice spot around a central pole so that everyone could hold on.

Luna and Neville made several commuters rather uncomfortable by talking to them, Neville simply apologising for stepping on toes and commenting on the heat, while Luna openly complimented a woman on a particularly hideous dog she was carrying.

Jamie would have tried explaining the unspoken London rule of “no talking to or making eye contact with strangers” to them but was really too amused to bother.

None of them had ever really had a sleepover before, but within an hour of their arrival at the Cromwell house, they had a blanket fort of epic proportions (which the girls would sleep in that night), a vast amount of popcorn, enough pizza to feed a small army and a movie marathon which had been dictated by Michael who was scandalized by his friends’ lack of pop culture reference knowledge.

They watched “The Wizard of Oz” for the irony, “Footloose”, for the music and then Jamie and Michael fought over whether “Indiana Jones” or “Back to the Future” was more pertinent to Luna and Neville’s muggle educations. Jamie won, insisting that explaining actual history and Nazis was more important than trying to explain fantasy time travel but Michael kept grumbling “Great Scott!” under his breath. Luna had confused them all by explaining that time travel was indeed possible, just not well recommended by the accounts that her father had heard of.

Susan Cromwell found them all fast asleep in a puppy pile the next morning covered in popcorn and chocolate smudges. All in all, they declared their first sleepover a roaring success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry for the lack of update in a while. My life kind of fell apart a little bit. broke up with my boyfriend and have had to look for somewhere new to live and pack up my stuff. I will be updating this as soon as possible but that may not be until Augustish time.


	2. Trains and Tolkien Rip-offs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so as I said in my notes at the end of the previous chapter, my life kind of fell apart a bit with a break up of my four-year-long relationship and the sudden need to find a place to live, but I needed a break from packing so spent this weekend typing like mad. I had already written most of Chapter 3 so had the motivation to connect everything up.
> 
> I might still make some minor edits to this as it felt a bit clunky but still

The rest of the holiday passed in a blissfully calm blur, the odd nightmare notwithstanding, until, quite before she was expecting it, Jamie found herself packing her trunk for the new term of school. The Harrises had bought new notepaper, pens and ring binder files, checked all the labels in her clothes and possessions were still legible and handed her a set of lint rollers after Mrs Harris had found vast amounts of cat hair on her clothes Jamie claimed was from the school mousers.

Jamie could proudly say that by the end of the holiday she was able to understand the basics of at least most of the topic areas muggles her age would understand, partially helped by Michael challenging her to a bit of a knowledge quiz showdown, hosted by his mother. She decided, however, that it might be best to specifically set aside time each week to look through the revision guides Mr Harris had gotten for her the previous year.

Mr Harris had apparently decided to get creative, hiding neatly folded crossword puzzles and wrapped boiled sweets into rolls of socks, pockets of jeans and the like which Jamie stumbled across as she checked and rechecked her trunk.

As Mr Pilchard had predicted, the muggle news stations had been giving vague updates about the escaped and highly dangerous prisoner Sirius Black, and while the Harrises weren’t particularly worried, Jamie just hoped Mr Harris hadn’t heard the most recent report of a sighting near Scotland, and that if he had, he would at least remember that she was safe and that it was unreasonable to assume otherwise, all the same, Jamie was excited to be on her way.

Jamie waved goodbye to their next-door neighbour Pamela, a tiny Indian woman who had been passing on letters or notes to Grace in order to let her explore her own half Indian heritage. She jumped a little when Pamela passed on her regards to Jamie’s friends before stating quietly “and tell that cat of yours to stop jumping out of the shadows, it’s enough to terrify an old lady like me.”

As far as Jamie knew, no muggles had ever seen Bast, let alone interact with her. She checked the surrounding drive, noticing the Harrises had disappeared back inside for last-minute bits and bobs.

“I… I don’t have a cat.” Jamie stuttered. Only for Bast to jump arrogantly out of the shadow of the front porch and saunter along the divider fence, swishing her tail definitely.

“Hmmm… no, I suppose you are right that no one truly can own a Cait Sidhe, but this one does seem fond of you.” Pamela continued pleasantly as though cats appearing out of shadow were an ordinary occurrence “What’s her name?”

“Ummm… Bast?” Jamie managed to answer as she watched her feline friend nudge her head against Pamela who obliged her with a gentle pat.

“A well-suited name for a guardian, but my point still stands!” Pamela addressed Bast firmly, “You’ll give this old lady a heart attack with all your appearing and disappearing, all I’m saying is that a well-placed warning meow would be appreciated.”

Jamie was at a complete loss as to how to process this new information as she watched Bast purr and nip playfully at Pamela’s fingers. Pamela seemed to find her frazzled state rather funny but smiled kindly at the girl and handed over a small cloth-covered parcel. “Now, that is for your friend Grace, about Indian magic and magical law there, I assumed she would like it. You had a friend who had a talent for Herbology, didn’t you?” Jamie nodded shakily. “Good, my valerian roots are turning mouldy in the ground and I have no idea why, you be a good girl and ask him for me won’t you? Also, you can always owl me things you want to be passed on to the Harrises and I’ll pop them through the letterbox, that’s got to be faster than whatever you were doing last year. I can’t tell you how much Julia fretted herself silly when she hadn’t heard from you!”

“You knew?” Jamie asked quietly “About my being a witch, this whole time?” 

Pamela nodded soberly and tucked a lock of Jamie’s hair behind her ear. “That Mr Pilchard of yours is a paranoid one. Asked me to look out for you when he first dropped you off. I saw you sneak out that time and followed you to Diagon Alley and the post office. Brave little girl you are.” she said, smiling sadly.

Jamie’s head was still reeling but she could hear the Harrises getting ready to leave as Pamela gave her a quick, warm hug and a pat on the cheek before shooing Bast back into the shadows. “Have a good term, lovely,” she said before retreating up her garden path with a wave at Jamie and another for the Harrises.

~ ~ ~

Michael grinningly greeted Jamie at the station as though the two had not seen one another in years and Jamie immediately joined in, the pair only stopping their sarcastic relay of the summer when they were sure the Harrises were sufficiently distracted by conversation with Mrs Cromwell. quick hugs were exchanged before Jamie and Michael disappeared into the crowd and through the dividing wall between platforms 9 and 10.

“Got a note from Ginny the other day warning me her older brother Percy’s been made Head Boy -” Jamie was saying as they crossed the magical boundary, but she stopped talking when she saw the platform.

Scattered at intervals were the same wanted poster that had been dotted around Diagon Alley, and There were a few adult witches and wizards in strange uniform-like robes who stood up straight, their eyes vigilant.

“Who do you suppose they are?” asked Jamie

“Aurors.” said Michael, “Dad said they’re like Magical police, come on,” he nudged her forwards, his voice dropping to a whisper like they had entered a strict library, his gaze becoming watchful. “Let’s get on the train.”

They made their way over to the furthest carriage, it was a convenient way of letting all their friends know where to find them, start at the last carriage and work forwards if necessary, unfortunately, the technique was probably something most people did, but given that Michael and Jamie liked to arrive early it wasn’t too much of a problem.

The last carriage, however, was very much already taken, despite their early arrival. A wizard was sat slumped in the corner near the window, fast asleep.

“Do you reckon he was a passenger from a civilian specific trip and people forgot to wake him?” Michael asked. “Happens pretty often on the Tube.”

“No, see look at his case, Professor R. J. Lupin, besides the last civilian trip, would have been Friday,” Jamie answered.

“Could be dead, I hear that happens on the Tube sometimes too.”

The man shifted, squinting at them drowsily. “Sorry, sir!” Jamie hoarse whispered before smacking Michael in the chest and dragging him down the hall.

They decided to leave a gap of one carriage between theirs and the Professor, reasoning that with four to seven friends crammed into one carriage, they were likely to become quite rowdy. Neville was next to arrive, but due to his grandmother having him go through a list of everything he may or may not have forgotten, Luna entered the carriage before Neville was even allowed on the train. Grace and Vee soon joined them. Jamie was just catching up Grace regarding how apparently Pamela was, in fact, a witch, when Ginny entered with a huff.

“Honestly, who does he think I am a pigeon. “Shoo Ginny,” he says. "ERG!” it was then that she noticed the rather stuffed full carriage was looking at her with a variety of amused expressions and her ears began to turn red.

“This Ron, I take it?” Jamie asked with an amused grin.

“I… yes, sorry carriage is full… I’ll go sit with Fred and George…” and she spun on her heel to leave.

Jamie managed to grab her arm and with a roll of her eyes, indicated for Michael and Neville to shimmy down the bench. “It’s kind of adorable how you still think you can get out of this just cause the carriage is a bit full, you’re kind of stuck with the lot of us now.” and with that, she deposited Ginny in the newly opened up seat, before sitting herself down on the ground with her back to the window. “Anyone up for a game of exploding snap? I reckon if we combine a few packs we’ll have enough for everyone.”

The seven of them spent the last few minutes before the train left the station by jokingly impersonating various older students, Ginny getting involved with various impersonations of her siblings. She barely even noticed when her mother peered a worried face in the window before looking relieved at the sight of her daughter utterly surrounded by friends and laughing hysterically.

As the train picked up speed, the group turned to play exploding snap and then when that got old, Michael taught everyone “Go Fish” with a few combined packs of normal playing cards. At one point they saw a pale, pinched face with blond hair peer in the door of their carriage to pull jeering faces at Neville, but Draco Malfoy had barely gotten through half of his intended quip about Neville babysitting the rest of them before Bast was hissing him back into the hall, for which everyone was grateful.

Bast decided to try sitting on Neville’s head and purring to cheer him up. It was such an odd sight that everyone kept giggling whenever they looked at him until Neville laughed too, which meant Bast got to look incredibly smug in her success.

The rain, which had been a comforting pitter-patter of drizzle in London, thickened and pelted the train the further north they sped. The near sticky humidity of 7 teenagers, fogging up the windows. It was beginning to get unseasonably cold as the sky darkened to night.

The friends had each taken turns sitting on the floor, but Michael had pulled Jamie up to sit between himself and Grace when she started shivering.

“You weren’t kidding about getting cold easily,” Grace joked as she concernedly rubbed Jamie’s arms while Michael dug through her trunk for a thick jumper for her.

“Julia always says it’s cause I don’t have enough meat on my bones.” Jamie joked as she gratefully pulled the massive knit jumper over her head. She let out a giggle as she settled herself between her two friends. “I’m trying to warm up between two cold-blooded snakes. The irony.”

“But you go running in colder weather than this!” Grace said with an indignant shriek when Jamie poked her cheek with an ice-cold finger. 

“Yeah but I get to run, that’s what keeps me warm. I’ve had to sit still for hours today!” Jamie whined with a laugh.

Grace rolled her eyes with a sarcastic “Oh poor you.” before settling down to continue reading the newspaper she had brought with her.

Jamie rested her head on Grace’s shoulder, eager to read the snippets of news and catch up on what was going on in the wizarding world.

There was a large section about updates in the search for Sirius Black, Ginny stole the sports section to read about upcoming plans for when England was scheduled to host the Quidditch world cup next year. But it was as Grace was turning a page that Jamie’s whole body seized up.

There, in a corner article was a picture of a man whose image was burned into her memory. The image wasn’t of great quality, it had been taken on a muggle CCTV camera, but it was him, her mother’s murderer. The article was titled “The Lycanthropic scourge” and subtitled “Greyback, Europe’s most dangerous half breed on the loose and spotted in Greece, a review of current and planned protections by the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, reported by David Blaine.”

Jamie bit down on her lip, hard. She still had scars from that day, and not all of them were from jumping off a cliff to get away from him. A set of human sharpened nail scratches on her biceps tingled unpleasantly as she gazed at his face. “Fenrir Greyback.” She had a name now. She wondered why it didn’t particularly make her feel any better.

She scoured the rest of the page for something interesting, settling on the advert and coupon clipping at the bottom of the page. “Grace… Could I have that page if you’re done with it? A girl in my house goes through so much Sleakeasy she could probably use the coupon.” 

Grace had nodded and absently handed her the page of her much-dismantled newspaper. Everyone too deep in their own books or games to notice Jamie staring emptily at the page. She didn’t even notice when the sky outside grew dark as midnight. She did, however, look up when the train slowed down significantly, she checked her watch. “We can’t be there yet, can we? We’ve still got another half an hour unless they’ve found a way to speed up the train more than usual.”

The wind howled and battered against the train and Neville cautiously poked his head out of the carriage door to see most of the train doing the same.   
“Maybe there’s something on the track?” said Michael

The train came to a juddering stop and the group of friends sprang up to stop their luggage from falling down and crushing them. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

Grace screeched and grabbed hold of Jamie’s hand.

“Shhh, I can hear something,” Neville said, “Like people boarding the train.”

“Maybe that Professor bloke will know what’s going on,” Ginny questioned the dark cabin. “Jamie, didn’t you say he was in the last cabin, the one Ron’s in.”

“Yeah, but he was asleep,” Michael answered.

Ginny seemed to have made up her mind, however, as she slipped from the cabin, Neville going after her since it wasn’t smart to go stumbling around in the dark.

Vee squeaked from the opposite corner “I really, really don’t like the dark.”

Jamie fumbled for her wand and then very carefully called for a Lumos charm, illuminating the carriage in the pale wand light. Vee shot her a grateful look but still looked nervously at the pitch blackness in the hallway and outside the train.

Grace had not let go of Jamie’s hand and her eyes were glued to the carriage doorway. “This is just like a nightmare I had once,” she whispered and Jamie gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Nightmares being a topic she knew quite a great deal about.

The door rattled, at first, everyone relaxed, thinking Neville and Ginny had reappeared with news. But the thing that stood in the open doorway was definitely not either of their Gryffindor friends. Instead, a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling stood framed in the doorway. The thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings and it was as though it had sucked all the warmth from the room.

Jamie felt sick and skittish like she wanted to dart up and flee, but Grace was still clinging to her hand looking pale and shaking slightly. Jamie did something either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid because she stood on shaky legs and pointed her wand at the thing, wondering if such a dark creature might be scared off by light alone like a spider.

Luna stood beside her, lighting her wand quietly, Jamie noticed there were tears silently slipping down her pale skin.

Whatever the creature was, it seemed to snort with derision at the two twelve-year-olds pointing wand light at it. And then it retreated down the hall in the direction Ginny and Neville had gone.

The dread cold remained and the occupants of the compartment remained dead silent, listening carefully.

They could not hear much but they did see a bright luminous orb move swiftly down the hallway a few minutes later and with its passing, the cold retreated. They heard the outer doors slam shut along the length of the train but dared not move until the train lights flickered back on and the train pulled forwards slowly beginning to build up speed.

The five friends took one look at each other’s pale and horrified faces before pulling each other into a clump where they sat together on the floor still staring at the open compartment door. It was as though they all desperately sought out some of the warmth the creature had taken away.

“What was that… that… thing?” Grace asked.

“I think it was a Dementor,” Luna answered, her usual wistfulness gone from her voice. “They’re the guards of Azkaban, Papa said there were going to be some positioned around the school because of Sirius Black. They suck up happiness and hope.” she shivered.

They all looked up as the clunk of a compartment door closed and footsteps sounded. The professor from the end compartment was making his way up the train. He stopped when he saw the five of them huddled together on the floor.

“It’s alright, the Dementors are gone now. If you have any chocolate, eat it, it’ll help counteract the lingering effects. Please stay in your compartments until we reach Hogwarts so that the prefects can check in on everyone.”

When he saw everyone shakily nod he gave a reassuring smile and closed their compartment door for them, continuing on his way. They could hear him make a few more stops, probably telling other compartments the same information.

Jamie carefully extricated herself from her clump of friends to search through her backpack for the chocolate frogs she had purchased earlier from the trolly lady and handed one to each of them before settling herself back into her spot.

“Bet that professor’s the new Defence teacher,” Michael said as he gingerly took a bite of chocolate. It seemed to work as a bit of his colour returned instantly.

“Would make sense, in any case, he seems a lot better than Lockhart,” Jamie mumbled.

“Those dementor things sure do look like how Nazgul are described in “The Lord of The Rings,” Michael said conversationally. “I wonder if Tolkien was a wizard and had a bad run-in with one once.”

It wasn’t long before they saw the Professor striding back to the end compartment, he didn’t stop, but nodded slightly at the sight of them with their chocolate frogs.

“I hope Neville and Ginny are alright.” Vee said quietly, looking pensive “You’d think after last year we’d get a nice, normal year. Hope they catch that criminal soon.” 

~ ~ ~

The group stayed together for the remainder of the trip, none of them particularly inclined to move. When the train, came to a much less jarring stop than before, they were pleased to see the lantern light of Hogsmeade station, even if they were less pleased by the vast downpour of icy rain. They all scrambled to get out, making for the carriages. Ginny and Neville joined them in the pelting rain.

It was a little weird to hear Hagrid calling loudly for the first years and realising that the term no longer related to them, but they followed the rest of the school in the queue for the carriages.

“I don’t envy those first years, getting in those boats in this rain! At least we had good weather.” Michael quipped.

Ginny looked pale and shaky. As their group was much too big for a single carriage, they split in two. Michael, Vee and Grace all took one carriage, leaving Jamie and Luna with the two Gryffindors while they recounted their own harrowing experience.

“It was awful!” said Neville “It got all cold and Ginny was shaking, and Harry fainted, but luckily we had that Professor Lupin in the carriage with us. He walked right up to the dementor, and pulled out his wand, and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery orb thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of flew off "

“That orb thing we saw, the one that moved down the passage? The Professor did that?” Jamie asked and Neville nodded as they climbed into a carriage.

“Yeah, he seems really nice too. Gave us each large bits of chocolate that helped us feel better.” Neville answered.

As their carriage trundled up the drive towards the castle, the air seemed to grow specifically colder, and when Jamie peered out of the little window, she spotted a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars. And there, stood on either side of the path, were two more towering, hooded dementors, standing guard. 

Ginny clutched Jamie’s arm and whispered “When it came into the compartment, I could hear Riddle, like last year… I remembered feeling shoved into the back of my own head.” 

It wasn’t as bad as the train had been, but Jamie still tensed as they passed the gates and she could feel Ginny stiffen beside her as the creatures peered into the carriage as it passed them. Jamie patted Ginny's arm once they passed into Hogwart's grounds.

"It's okay," Jamie said with a consoling look to her pale friend.

The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle as though the thestral that pulled them was just as keen to get away from the dementors as the occupants of the carriage.

Michael, Vee and Grace were waiting for them when they arrived, huddled together under the stone archway over the great oak doors. Luna stopped to brush her knuckles soothingly down the skeletal rump of the thestral that had pulled their carriage, as though trying to calm it down from having to pass the creatures at the gate.

“What’s she doing?” Ginny asked incredulously

“She’s calming the Thestral,” Jamie answered simply.

“The what?”

“Don’t mind them. It’s another one of those creatures that don’t exist that the two of them keep talking about.” Michael answered with a laugh.

“They DO exist!” Jamie retorted. “They can only be seen by someone who’s seen someone die. I can see them too!”

That seemed to sober the group but Jamie could tell there was still some disbelief, so she grabbed Michael and Ginny by the wrist and pulled them out into the downpour before tugging them forward and placing their hands gently on the Thestral’s flank. They both looked horrified, giving the same sort of look common to people who think there is an extra step in a staircase and feel their stomach’s flip when their foot falls through empty air. Only this time, they had expected nothing and suddenly felt their skin press against bony skin.

Michael withdrew his hand immediately and took a few paces backwards, suddenly terrified by the prospect of very solid somethings hanging about invisible. Ginny, however, looked amazed and carefully stroked the invisible creature.

They all shuffled back to the archway’s protection from the rain and stepped into the warmth and torchlight of the castle.

“I didn’t know other people couldn’t see them.” Neville said quietly “I watched my grandfather die when I was six. Just kind of never noticed most other people didn’t see what was pulling the carriages.”

Jamie gave Neville’s arm a sympathetic pat. As they entered the Great Hall, Luna skipped off towards the Ravenclaw table with a cheery wave to her friends. Jamie held the others back a moment and nodded toward the Ravenclaws, all of whom pulled faces and shifted as Luna sat down. She didn’t seem to pay them much mind but the Ravenclaws sure seemed to mind her.

“That’s why I needed you to know about the Thestrals. The Ravenclaws, and hell, most people in the castle, think Lu’s mad. Last term, I started hearing them calling her “Loony Lovegood.” I know some of what she says sounds far fetched, but more often then not she’s actually right about stuff. She just sees the world in terms of endless possibility rather than endless limitations.”

Michael looked contrite as he bobbed his head, looking pensive as he, Grace and Vee made their way over to the Slytherin table. Ginny nudged Jamie’s arm. “If anyone in Gryffindor calls her Loony I’ll hex them,” she said with a smile.

Jamie smiled gratefully as she left the Gryffindors to join her own table saying hello to a few of her year mates as she went. Alice Hartshill, a girl who had been the 6th year prefect last year, was wearing her head girl badge with pride and was busy explaining some details of prefect duties to the new 5th year prefects and her own 7th year replacement.

Once the last of the students were seated, professor Flitwick entered, followed by a long row of first-years who all looked miserable, scared and soaked through to the bone.

Professor Flitwick lined them up on the teacher’s dais before placing a stool in the centre of the stage and placing the sorting hat on top. 

Jamie only paid half a mind to the front of the room as the Sorting hat began its song, she was too distracted by glaring at a pair of Ravenclaws who had decided to make a game out of flicking Luna’s turnip earrings.

Jamie very carefully tore off a strip of the newspaper page she had in her pocket containing the article about Fenrir Greyback. She then tore the strip in two and folded each into a tight wad. Before covering her mouth with her hand as though to yawn, she muttered a quick “Wingardium leviosa” and shot one bit of wadded paper right after the other, right up the noses of the two Ravenclaws.

They turned to glare at her, after sputtering and loudly blowing their noses to rid themselves of the paper. Jamie glared right back, and was pleased to see across the hall, Grace had ripped up another page of her newspaper and formed a collection of ammunition, ready for Vee and Michael to charm if necessary.

The Ravenclaw boys grinned meanly at Jamie as though to say “You and whose army?” Jamie quirked an eyebrow, made eye contact with Michael and gave a nearly imperceptible nod. Four bits of wadded paper were suddenly flung directly into the two boys’ nostrils, three from the Slytherin table, one from behind Jamie where Ginny grinned smugly beside a quietly snickering Neville.

Jamie grinned back at the Ravenclaw boys who had followed her gaze and clearly realised they were surrounded. With sour looks, they waited until the first years were sorted before getting up and skulking off to a different section of the table.

As Professor Flitwick, carried the ancient hat and stool out of the hall, Jamie noticed Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, as well as Professor McGonagall, enter the Hall and Jamie wondered if they had somehow gotten into trouble already. But she did not have long to speculate before the Headmaster stood up to speak and the hall silenced.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast...."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

While Jamie had been taught not to trust the headmaster completely, she was rather glad to see him righteously indignant over the train search and the effect it had had on his students.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises -- or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added as though such items were likely to be a possible possession of schoolchildren. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I, therefore, warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors," he said.

The Hufflepuff prefects and the head girl seemed to swell with pride a little, one prefect had been performing quietly cast drying charms on the first years.

"On a happier note," he continued, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, but rather unenthused polite clapping. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin and Jamie’s compartment clapped harder. Professor Lupin smiled politely at the students. Jamie noticed that Professor Lupin’s robes were a tad shabbier than the other staff members, primarily because she heard a few of the noticeably wealthier students making derisive faces. Professor Snape, on the other hand, was glaring at Professor Lupin with an expression that could only have been described as hate.

“Wonder what his problem is?” muttered Jamie, pointing the expression out to Patty Williams who sat next to her, who shrugged.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued, "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

The applause was thunderous. Hagrid could be seen at the staff table, ruby-red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard. Suddenly the vicious book Neville had had to purchase made a great deal more sense and Jamie grinned.

The Gryffindors, Hermione, Ron and Harry specifically were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, Jamie saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"

The feast, as usual, was exquisite. The house-elves had seemingly been told to load them all up with chocolate after the incident with the dementors as every dessert menu item seemed to be in some way tied to chocolate. There was chocolate moose, delicate pastries stuffed or coated with chocolate, chocolate cake and chocolate steamed puddings and even a variety of chocolate cakes and biscuits. Even if you didn’t have something that was chocolate, like vanilla or strawberry ice cream, there was a rich, delicious chocolate sauce available. By the end, Jamie almost felt as though she could do with never seeing anything chocolate for about a week.

Once all the dishes were swept clear, Dumbledore stood up to give a few more details, mostly for the sake of the first years, such as how the forest was forbidden, not to run or do magic in the corridors and a reminder of when Quidditch tryouts would be starting for the older students.  
Then everyone got up and started to head for their dormitories. 

Patty linked elbows with Jamie and another second-year who introduced herself as “Juniper” or “June for short.” Patty giggled mischievously and whispered, “I almost wish I was in first year again, don't you?”

June seemed just as giggly and Jamie got the distinct impression that she was missing something until Patty nodded her head in the direction of the new 5th-year prefect boy who was smiling down at the first years in his charge and enthusiastically pointing out things of interest for them to look at along the way.

Jamie sighed and looked back at Patty and June seeing the tinge of pink blush blooming on their cheeks and gave a dramatic sigh. “Okaaay, and who is the poor sod you are both swooning over?”

“Cedric Diggory.” the pair answered in breathy unison. “He’s Seeker for the team and just been made captain.” June elaborated.

“I thought seekers were meant to be all small and skinny like Potter?” Jamie asked, unconcerned.

Patty gave her a dry look “Because you know so much about Quidditch?” she joked. “ Kidding, apparently it’s just different styles of play or something, I don’t really care, I just think he’s nice to look at.”

Jamie cracked a grin “Well at least I won’t have to hear you asking about what rhymes with “glistening smile” in relation to Lockhart anymore,” She dodged a punch to the arm and snickered as she crawled quickly through the Hufflepuff common room entrance.

The two other girls huffed their annoyance half-heartedly before bidding Jamie goodnight.

Jamie stopped in the common room for a moment, ignoring the seventh year prefects giving the first years their introduction to the House. On one of the coffee tables were a few neat stacks of newspapers that were always left so that muggleborns could catch up on the news they missed over the holidays.

The folded up article in her pocket sat like a lead weight until Jamie stepped forward to look for today’s paper. She didn’t want to send her own copy to Mr Pilchard. She needed to remember the name, remember his face. And though it terrified her, she knew Mr Pilchard HAD to be told the identity of her mother’s murderer. She had barely been able to give him a description or any key details when the incident happened.

She pulled the correct page from the paper and set off for her room. Digging through her trunk for a marker pen, an envelope and a pair of scissors she cut out the article, circled the face and scrawled out “This is the man who killed mum.” before shoving it into an envelope and rushing back across the hall.

Patty had gotten an owl for Christmas the previous year and the bird seemed to prefer its owner’s warm dormitory room far more than the owlery. Patty was happy to let Jamie use the bird, assuming most likely that her neighbour was frantically writing home for something forgotten, she bid Jamie a goodnight.

It was many, many hours before Jamie sank into a fitful sleep. Bast nestled in her armpit, and a set of nightmares resting just on the brink of unconsciousness involving cold and claws and cloaked figures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aw yeah, Pamela is a witch and has been looking out for Jamie from the start. I should probably work out what the long term butterfly effect of having Luna have friends watching her back is gonna be, but idk.


	3. Boggarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really REALLY love folklore and mythology and stuff and it always kind of bothered me that the apparent only possible way to deal with a boggart that is mentioned is with making it humorous. If you can, go read the Wardstone Chronicles books, they are soooo good and have a lot of stuff regarding old English beliefs and it's still a really awesome plot. But I decided that maybe boggarts aren't as simplistic as they seemed in the books. Like where would they have come from? what would have been their reason for existence in the world? Dementors seem like magical parasites that feed on energy and hope and joy, poltergeists seem like collections of condensed magical thought, like Peeves being a collection of pet peeves held by staff, students and school caretakers over the years. Boggarts never seem to actually feed on people's fears, they are described as liking dark, secluded spaces, places that wouldn't be likely to get much foot traffic. Their ability to transform into a person's worst fear seems far more like a rattlesnakes rattle, or vivid colours warning of poisonous skin, something to cause people to run away and stay away.  
> In any case, this was genuinely the chapter that made me start this writing journey, my character meeting my favourite character ever.
> 
> About a third of the way through it switches to Remus Lupin's POV, mostly cause I just needed that bit of story to be seen through his eyes rather than Jamie's. I know my writing style is from a technical standpoint, a bit of a mess, but I absolutely loved writing this chapter.

Jamie knew beyond all shadow of a doubt that skipping the first lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts class was not good form. It was disrespectful to the Professor, who by all accounts, even from the seventh year students, seemed to be on track for being the best Defence Professor they had ever seen. However, Jamie also knew that attending would be far worse.

All week the older students had been abuzz with praise for the new professor. The fifth years and fourth years all had their lessons at the beginning of the week and Jamie had even overheard the Weasley twins ribbing their younger brother about how cool their lesson had been, but that they were all under oath not to tell and ruin the surprise for other year groups. The sixth and seventh years NEWT level students had all had their lessons on Wednesday and the third years had had theirs yesterday.

Like everyone else in the school, Jaime was near vibrating with excitement for the lesson. Second-year Hufflepuffs shared their lesson with Ravenclaw and so Luna, Jamie and Michael had all been gathered around their end of the Hufflepuff table waiting for dinner which Neville had promised would come with a full report of his lesson which was to be just after lunch that day. Grace, Vee and Ginny had all decided they were keen on the lesson remaining a surprise and so were absent.

Neville entered, beaming like he hadn't since the start of the week and sat down. He had had a particularly difficult start to the term, apparently, the new Gryffindor password was very emphatically not sticking in his memory, he kept getting lost on the way to his new lessons, and his very first Divination lesson had come with ominous warnings about his grandmother’s health. Jamie had loaned him her mother’s old map, but given he wasn’t all that skilled at map reading, she wasn’t exactly sure how much help it had been. He looked around the almost empty hall to make sure no one would catch him ruining the surprise for the second years before leaning in and signalling them all to do the same. 

“Boggarts!” he said, trying desperately to whisper while still oozing excitement.

His statement drew impressed and happy “Oooooooooohs” from Luna and Michael but a sense of dread settled on Jamie.

“Don't...” she started before clearing her voice and starting again on a stronger note. “Don't boggarts take the form of whatever scares you the most?” she asked. 

She knew the answer, of course, boggarts were categorised by the Ministry of Magic Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as a form of Spirit, much like dementors, which Jamie and Luna had taken to reading about as soon as they had been given access to the library) almost all wizarding literature on the subject confirmed that. But, according to the Fae, boggarts were in fact Beings, a distant relative of gnomes, although smarter and closer in nature to Elves. She had read ahead over the summer a little to try and stave off some of the horrific damage to her education Professor Lockhart had left, not that it had helped cover or validate anything the Fae folk in the meadow back home had said.

Neville nodded, turning more towards his smiling and enthused audience. 

“Yeah, when we got to the class, Professor Lupin took us to the staffroom and Snape was there and Snape said something about warning Professor Lupin about how I was useless.” Everyone around the table gasped, outraged by this but Neville shushed them all. “Professor Lupin asked me to demonstrate the lesson first. He explained everything and then asked me what my biggest fear was...”

Neville continued to describe the lesson but while the image granted of Professor Snape dressed in Mrs Longbottom’s outlandish wardrobe was hysterical, she couldn’t find it in herself to laugh. 

The face of her mother's killer flashed before her eyes as she tried to focus on her breathing. Slow and steady breaths were not doing much for the flashes of images from that night. The images stopped and focused on the newspaper clipping James still had in her dorm room from the train ride up. “Fenrir Greyback, the most dangerous werewolf in Europe. Wanted by the International Confederacy dead or alive.” The image in the paper was of Greyback exiting a barn, his front looking stained and wet with what could only have been blood.

Bile rose in her throat as Jamie interrupted her friends to tell them she felt sick and was going to miss dinner. They called out after her but she did not hear them over the rushing sound of her own pulse. She barely made it to the Common room before she was violently sick.

Bast mewed concernedly as some of the older students rushed over to help her. She assured them she didn’t think she needed to see Madam Pomfrey, that she just needed to lie down.

The next morning she awoke the same time she normally would but instead of rising and going for her usual run, all it took was the thought of facing a boggart and she was sick into a basin of the common room bathrooms, retching on her empty stomach before downing as much water as she could stand before heading back to bed.

When Patty came to knock on her door, the girl took one look at Jamie's face before she was jabbering about going to see Madam Pomfrey and that Jamie need not worry at all, that she would take studious notes of lessons Jamie would miss. The girl then left, talking animatedly with some other second years about the upcoming Defence lesson that morning.

Having missed breakfast and the double Defence lesson that followed it. Jamie pushed herself from bed just before the lunch bell was set to go, her stomach exclaiming loudly at its abuse.

Jamie got dressed and made her way up to the Great Hall. Lunch was already set out with a few older students trickling in from study periods or lessons which had finished early. She took a seat in the usual place and piled a few carrot sticks, some sliced tomato and a few other vegetables onto her plate before examining the platter of sandwiches sceptically for one which might sit in her stomach. She decided on roast chicken and salad and was just beginning to pick at the food when the bell rang and Luna and Michael joined her.

“You weren't in class this morning,” said Luna

“You look pale.” remarked Michael “When you left yesterday, I wondered if you were just scared about the boggart, but you look actually sick.”

Jamie glared at him. She normally liked Michael's blunt honesty but today she just wanted to pick half-heartedly at her sandwich without him eyeing up her sickly complexion. Sensing this, Luna diverted his attention with other topics.

By the end of lunch, Jamie was feeling a good deal better and was even asking Luna about the previous lesson. That was, until someone behind Jamie caught her focus.

“Oh, hello, Professor.” She said cheerily. 

Jamie swivelled to see the new professor, Professor Lupin, who was smiling down at Luna.

“Hello Miss Lovegood,” he responded before turning to Jamie. “And you must be Miss Schwarz?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He then gestured slightly down the row of tables “Miss Williams told me you were ill this morning, she was very concerned about you. I am glad to see you have a bit more colour back.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jamie fearing the worst.

Professor Lupin smiled gently. “Yes, unfortunately, today's lesson was rather important. After what I have heard of your Defence lessons last year, I am keen to start the year on a new leaf. So, if you would, now that you are feeling a little better, I would ask that you come to my office at the end of your afternoon classes to review the session.” He rested a measuring look on Jamie, seeming to notice the underlying fear she felt. He no doubt figured out someone had leaked the lesson plan. He added: “You can bring a friend if you wish to, you aren't in trouble in any way.”

There was no way out of this one Jamie thought. Steeling herself, she nodded. Professor Lupin left for his next class.

The little group of friends packed up their things, Neville heading to the greenhouses for his study period. Luna left them to go to potions while Michael and Jamie headed for the South Tower for Charms.

Jamie loved Charms, it was by far her favourite subject but even the fun of clearing ectoplasm from a disused classroom with the Skurge charm could not distract her from the building panic she had to face in little over an hour's time.

With Charms done and Michael on his way to his last lesson (Defence Against the Dark Arts with Gryffindor), Jamie was left to occupy herself for her last lesson study period.

She could go to the Library and see if anything there could help calm herself down, but instead, she found herself drawn back to her dorm room.

She was still terrified of facing the boggart, of seeing him, but she had made peace with the fact that it was unavoidable at this point. If she did not arrive the Professor would surely send someone to find her. At least this way there would only be one other person to see it, unlike the kids who had faced their boggarts in front of the entire class. No, now Jamie's primary concern was figuring out how to banish the darn thing as soon after it appeared. Before this year began she would have been most afraid that someone would recognise her mother's killer as a servant of Voldemort, perhaps guess at why a child might be afraid of him. Now it was that alongside the fear that someone would recognise him from the article that had featured in the paper not even a week previous.

But how to banish the thing? Her textbooks suggested that a Boggart was a shape-shifting spirit. Listed as a non-being like a poltergeist or dementor, they were considered amortal in that they could be banished but never killed. The only listed banishment spell was “Riddikulus”, focusing the caster on using force of mind to banish, but what if the form it took honestly could not be made funny?

It also did not make sense to her that in all the muggle mythology books, and according to the Fae, boggarts were beings. Angry and malevolent, but solid beings, which must hold at least a kernel of truth having been told from stories prior to the statute of secrecy. 

Jamie thought back to her childhood, to old Aster Davidson, the only other witch in the one village she and her mother had lived in. Of all people, Aster had been trusted by her mother with looking after Jamie when her mother couldn’t. Aster had told her stories about the Fae realm, about cat guardians like Bast, the Fae Otherworld and much more. 

“Never offend a brownie.” She had said. “You know how elf kind favours work and good deeds? A brownie will serve a family or person of its choosing faithfully, bringing it good fortune. Only, treat it with abuse or cruel words or present it with the sackcloth of servant's garb and he will become enraged and vengeful, a boggart, he will be. His old form, he will return to if he is named and given the kindness he was owed, else he will haunt the family wherever they go. Way back centuries ago, the oldest families would keep their brownies separate from others, told them lies like that disobedience meant shame on their honour, bred them like livestock to make them temperate, and bound them with magic to the home. That's how house-elves came to be, but some of the old brownie blood still flows through their veins. They still speak elvish in the households that keep more than one of them.”

Old Aster had always seemed to know her stuff, more than any textbook Jamie had ever read.

Flicking through her muggle mythology books as well as her mother’s old research notes, she began to make her preparations.

~ ~ ~

(Remus POV)

Remus Lupin packed a few rolls of parchment into the desk drawer of his office before he heard a quiet knock on the door. Right on time.

When he had seen the girl's frightened face in the Great Hall a few hours ago, he was half sure she would not show up.

“Come in.” He called out, perching on the edge of his desk.

She entered, wavy black hair tied back in a pineapple bun and holding tight to the straps of her backpack. Her face was set like she was braced for something awful.

“Come in Miss Schwarz, it's alright, you can put your bag down too.”

Following the third year's lessons yesterday, Remus had moved the boggart to a trunk from lost and found so as to move it from the staff room to the classroom and finally to his office. 

Neville Longbottom's boggart had surprised him, although he had tried not to show it at the time. No child should have to be afraid of their teachers. As someone who was constantly in a cycle of fearing himself and fearing the judgement of others, Remus could not imagine being afraid of his teachers. Hogwarts had been the safe-haven of his youth and for Severus Snape to have caused such distress in someone so young, irked him beyond measure. The second and first years had faced their greatest fears in the safety of the classroom, with no risk of the potential judgement from Snape or Filch.

The girl shuffled closer and carefully placed her bag on the ground by her feet. Its loss made her small frame seem even smaller. Large grey eyes were watching him from underneath escaped strands of her fringe. There was something familiar about her that he could not place, a wary guarded sort of look like someone waiting for the rug to be pulled from under her. Another set  
of grey eyes framed by similar dark hair flashed through his mind before he forced the image away.

“Now, I take it from your reaction that you know what the first lesson's topic was.”

The girl bit her lower lip, eyes never looking away from him. She nodded. “Boggarts.” She said simply.

“Correct. Now can you let me know who told you and what they told you exactly?” He asked. 

When she tensed and looked ready to bolt he added, “They aren't in trouble, I just need to know what you know. Many people are afraid of boggarts and misinformation is how it spreads.”

“I'm not afraid of boggarts!” She said, challenge hardening in her eye and jaw. “Neville told us how you helped him because his boggart was Professor Snape. He was really happy because he's been having a rough week. His first ever lesson this year was divination where professor Trelawney said his grandmother might be ill and he wrote her, and she didn't respond back until yesterday morning to tell him she was fine and that divination was a sham subject, but he was worried. And then in potions, Professor Snape kept yelling at him so he added too much leech juice to his swelling solution and Professor Snape said he was going to use the ruined potion on Neville's toad Trevor!” 

The girl paused for breath as though realising first that she had gotten caught on a rant and second that she had outed Neville as the one who had ruined the surprise lesson. Her eyes bugged and she clenched her jaw before taking a deep breath and fixing him with a stern look before reiterating “I'm not afraid of boggarts, sir.”

Remus smiled slightly. “Perhaps I misspoke,” he said placatingly. “It is entirely normal to be afraid of facing your worst fears, especially in front of other people. It seems Neville filled you in on what boggarts do am I correct? And did he tell you how to banish them?”

The girl nodded, rather hesitantly, “Yes sir, he did, the Riddikulus spell, it's based on force of mind, the ability to focus on making the boggart's form turn into something that can be laughed at.”

Remus nodded. “Excellent, and five points to Gryffindor for Neville's excellent recall and five to Hufflepuff for yours.”

The girl tilted her head ever so slightly and squinted her eyes. Remus got the distinct impression she saw him as a puzzle that needed to be worked out.

“I'm not like Professor Lockhart.” he said, trying to give a reassuring smile “or Professor Snape. I care that my students learn to protect themselves. I asked the students to keep the lesson a secret because children sitting for a week worried about facing their deepest darkest fears is the very last thing I wanted to happen. But Neville told his friends, because a part of facing his fears included his friends knowing that he will always have that moment of seeing his true fear humiliated. Of course, boggarts are a fairly common household pest in the magical community, but if years from now Neville encounters Professor Snape bursting from a broom cupboard in his home and yelling about house points, he will already know it to be a boggart due to it being out of context of the school. Facing his real fear of the real Professor Snape is something he will have to face for the next three years at the very least.”

The girl nodded, her expression clearing but she still chewed on her lip.

“Sir... what if you can't find anything in the world that would make the boggart's form funny?”

Remus gave the girl a measured look before responding. “That's a tough one, there isn't much to do in that situation barring calling in help from someone who can perform the banishing. It's part of what I did for work after school. But it's unusual for someone your age to have such dark fears that cannot be banished even for trying.”

The girl looked at him and for a moment he saw a flicker of darkness pass through her young eyes, an unimaginable sadness that would have looked more at home on the face of an adult who had fought in the last war, not a child of twelve. The darkness was pushed down with a blink.

“What is it you fear most in all the world?” He asked, his voice soft and quiet.

She paused and he fully expected her not to answer. She breathed in deep and released it slowly before muttering something incoherent. When he raised an eyebrow she sighed and answered clearly.

“A werewolf, Professor.” she all but whispered.

Time stopped and Remus began to panic that this girl somehow knew about him, before he noticed that while she seemed wary, arms wrapped around herself like armour, she distinctly did not seem afraid of him.

“A werewolf?” he clarified. She nodded, beginning to retract in on herself again, he hurried to reassure. “It's actually a rather common fear, Hannah Abbot in the year above you had the same fear, turned it into a puppy with a pink bow around its collar chasing its tail, she thought it was rather cute then.”

This, it seemed, had been the wrong thing to say, the girl's whole form seemed to swell with barely contained seething rage, even her shadow seemed to swell as though preparing for a fight.

“Where is the boggart, sir?” she asked.

Remus was about to tell her that there was no need for her to face the thing, to reassure her she didn't need to prove herself when the trunk under the window just to his right rattled violently. Her eyes locked onto it and with a flick of her wrist, the lid sprang open and she marched toward it.

There was a heartbeat of silent nothing before Fenrir Greyback stood grinning, towering over the tiny girl with her fist balled around her wand. He held a large knife to the neck of a woman with dark brown curls hanging around her face, the strands matted with blood from a deep gash in her forehead.

The woman looked up at Jamie, her battered face growing desperate, she struggled against her captor. “RUN JAMES!” she shouted. Greyback growled low, flicked the knife against her throat as though he were cutting through butter, before dropping her to the ground. Blood pooled under her and she did not move.

Remus was frozen, Greyback took a step towards Jamie, grinning all the while and Remus was still unable to move.

Jamie raised her wand. Her eyes filled with pure hate. “Riddikulus” she shouted, tears falling down her face. Her wand motion and pronunciation of the spell had been perfect but nothing happened, and still, Remus was unable to move toward the horrifying tableaux.

Greyback laughed sickeningly before bending over slightly as though to talk to a very small child. “Mummy's dead, little one. No one's going to save you now.” He reached forward as though to grab Jamie and something inside Remus snapped, releasing him, but Jamie was faster. She pulled a small pouch from her pocket and threw it at Greyback. Purple powder engulfed the pair and Jamie began chanting something very quickly under her breath.

When the powder cleared, there was a ring of purple dust encircling where Greyback had been with Jamie standing on the outside. She was shaking like a leaf but stood firm. In Greyback's place was a humanoid shape a foot or so shorter than Jamie. 

His head was bulbous and puffy, his arms hung down to the ground, ending in a hand with long clawed fingers that scraped the stone floor as the creature breathed. His skin was as black as soot and his eyes were beady like a raven's, sitting too large on either side of a thin bony ridge that ended in what could only have been a nose, but looked far more like a skull does when the cartilage of the nose is gone. It was an upside-down almost heart-shaped hole in his face that sat just above a wide mouth full of jagged teeth. The creature's ears sat large, and pointed on either side of his head, halfway between the long thin ears of a goblin and the wide bat wings shape of a house elf’s.

The creature wore an odd assortment of what looked to have once been a pair of brown linen trousers tied at the waist and white linen shirt that would have ballooned over the arms and cinched at the wrist had it not been ripped in several places so that it seemed to only hang on the creature by a few worn threads. The outfit seemed caked in years worth of filth.

It glared. Glared at the girl before it, who continued to breathe, slow and steady while simply looking back at the creature.

“A little more specific than the form it took for Hannah Abbot then, I assume, Professor?” She asked, startling him and making him freeze up all over again.

“Umm...” he said inelegantly, still reeling from the few seconds that had just passed.  
The girl looked pale as though moments from throwing up or passing out, or perhaps both.

The creature said something, its teeth flashed threateningly and its tongue was dark and guttural like an underground stream rippling over rock.

A threatening hiss followed the verbal slew, and Remus would have been forgiven for thinking the girl had made the hiss, however, to his further shock, the darkness of her shadow thickened to a hue much blacker than what the fading afternoon light of his office window would reasonably cause, before consolidating itself into the shape of a cat.

The effect was instantaneous, the creature in the circle cowed and curled in on itself, it snapped its mouth closed to hide its teeth and hunkered down on its haunches with its arms over its eyes like a very small child playing hide and seek and believing itself to be invisible if it itself cannot see.

The cat... or whatever it was, looked away from the quivering creature as though satisfied by its reaction before turning to the girl. It rubbed itself fully against the girl's ankles several times alternating between a very loud purr that seemed intent to pass right through the girl and questioning meows.

A tear dropped from the girl's face and she sniffed loudly. “I'm okay, Bast,” she told the cat. Taking another steadying breath she wiped at her wet face with the back of her robe sleeve. She coughed a little as though checking her voice was still intact before squaring her shoulders a little.

“I read in the textbook that boggarts were considered to be non-beings,” she said, her voice sounded empty and tired, like the words had to come out of her but that the unspoken ones were all that was holding her up. “It said they were like poltergeists or Dementors, that they could only ever be banished but would inevitably return. But I knew someone a long time ago who knew quite a lot about the Fae and the elvish creatures that are of their realm. She said that boggarts were just brownies that had been slighted horribly by the household they had chosen to help. She said people grew to just see elf kind as subservient and that they were to be treated as servants and expected to obey. She said that if people would just show them the kindness they deserved and treated them as they deserved, as equals, they would return to brownie form.”

She sat down, as though standing required too much energy to continue doing. This was a boggart? This creature that had moments ago seemed intent on murder that now quivered and shuffled ever closer to the far edge of the circle. Remus took a step towards the girl and then another before sitting as well, staring, his mind still processing at a hundred miles a minute.

“No one's ever seen one before.” was all he could say.

The girl smiled tiredly, “No wizard has ever seen one before. But then, how many wizards do you know who would care? To most, they are just lower life form pests.”

She reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out what looked to be a jar of milk which she opened and placed inside the circle. “Cream,” she said simply by way of explanation.

She looked between the boggart and the cat before seeming to come to a decision. She flicked her wand in a circular motion with an exhausted “Accio.” and the powder rushed to follow the wand pointing to the small cinch pouch it had all come from. “Zinc for revealing true natures, silver and iron for unbreakable protection, the rest is some weird hedge magic compound my mum used to make. she says it’s similar to what the Goblins use to reveal and remove enchantments on people visiting the bank,” she said nodding at the now full pouch.

The boggart's ears twitched, flickering and tilting this way and that before it looked up at the girl, at the cat, at Remus and finally at the absence of a restrictive circle. It seemed weary but also as though it had deflated, growing smaller. Its eyes landed on the jar of cream before taking in everything else in the room cautiously and then back on the cream. It unfolded itself from its haunches and reached forward. Its ears stayed in constant motion, tilting in the direction of Remus and the girl even if they so much as breathed.

The girl watched but seemed entirely at ease, as though the cautious creature's antics were expected and reassuring.

The creature grabbed the little jar and retreated with it. It sniffed the jar, cautiously at first before inhaling as though it were the scent of ambrosia. And then before Remus could even blink, a long pointed tongue whipped out from behind the boggart's fangs. It seemed to puff into a cylindrical tube which it dipped into the jar and soon even the dregs of the cream had been sucked up from the jar.

“Poor thing,” said Jamie, the comment confusing Remus until she continued. “He must have been starving.” she pulled out a second jar, this one was of milk and followed it up with a bag of beef jerky which she opened but did not pour onto the floor as he had expected her to do.

After placing the empty jar of cream on the ground and noticing the milk and jerky, the creature took two very tentative steps toward them both before sitting down cross-legged. It's back straightened and his head did not seem quite so bulbous, instead high cheekbones seemed noticeable just below its eyes and its jaw seemed to be getting pointier.

The creature looked from Remus, to the cat, to Jamie once again as though seeking permission. When Jamie smiled and nodded at it, it reached for the jar of milk with much greater care and sipped it more daintily with its straw-like tongue.

That done, it reached for the packet of beef jerky. It picked it up, took a small piece and then extended it's arm, holding the packet out to Jamie. Jamie took a piece and with a glance and a nod, so did Remus. They all then ate their pieces together. The creature sighed, it stretched and hummed as though the little piece of beef were an exquisitely cooked fillet steak.

Jamie swallowed before looking at the creature “na- cín est-?” she asked, her tone was lighter but still sounded just like the language the creature had used.

The creature seemed taken aback at this but its beady little eyes flicked to the cat which now sat in Jamie's lap purring happily with its eyes shut.

The creature swallowed the small piece of meat down before sighing “Mui est- na- Cauld.”

“His name is Cauld,” said Jamie, looking over at Remus with a smile. She was still pale and he could still see a tightness to her shoulders but her eyes had crinkled up with joy like the creature's name had been a gift.

~ ~ ~

After sitting with Cauld talking while Jamie translated back and forth, it dawned on Remus that there was still something important that urgently needed discussing. He waited until the Brownie (for that was what it was now) had eaten his fill of beef jerky, agreed to stick around the school for educational purposes so long as he was well treated, before curling up in a patch of the dwindling sunlight. He knew that if his father could have seen this he would have been amazed, lifelong academic of Boggarts that he was.Remus decided he would have to write to him.

Never-the-less, it was almost dinnertime and Remus knew he had to ask.

“Your mother was killed by Fenrir Greyback?” his voice was soft, it wasn't an easy topic.

Jamie tensed instantly, but looking at the Professor and seeing not horror or fear but rather understanding, she nodded.

“How old were you?” 

A slow exhalation and then “Eight.”

Remus looked over the small girl. Four years. She had lost her mother barely four years ago. He gulped.

“Did he bite you?”

Her eyes flashed to his and Remus could see the shutters come down on her openness. Her eyes were hard and her jaw locked. “No.” she gritted through her teeth.

“I only ask because there are ways of helping -” he raised his hands in a calming gesture but it didn't work.

“I am not a werewolf!” said Jamie. She was near shaking with rage, her fists curled at her sides. “I've seen how they treat werewolves, even met a few and their families. They aren't monsters, The Daily Prophet lied, it kept talking about how you can catch lycanthropy from things like sharing a mug or touching blood, but it isn't true! Any of it. My mum always said there were no monsters in this world, just people and those who do monstrous things. He... he scratched me. I ran like mum told me to and he tried to catch me and he scratched me as I got away. But it didn't take, I read that you can only catch it if bitten by a fully transformed werewolf, and he wasn’t. Some wood gnomes found me and they put a paste on and it helped. I don't turn and I'm not dangerous, honest.” There were tears streaming down her face as she spoke, part pleading, part defiant.

She seemed to come back to herself then, as though realising she hadn't wanted to say anything and panic crept into her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her tiny frame and her lip wobbled slightly. “Are... are you going to report me?” she asked, staring at him.

Remus sat in shock. She looked so frightened. Every one of her darkest fears had been laid bare that afternoon and yet she had still tried to explain that werewolves weren't monsters, despite everything that a very definitely monstrous werewolf had done to her life. 

“No, James,” he said, looking her in the eyes and keeping his voice calm and level. “I'm not going to report you. There isn't anything to report. I won't even tell anyone, your past is your own. So long as you don't need help, like potions to manage the full moons, I see no reason for it to be anyone's business.”

She was still terrified, still guarded and still had her eyes locked on him as though he was dangerous, although for once in his life, there was someone who was terrified because she thought he was absolutely human.

Remus wiped his hands down his face and sighed loudly, trying to draw on some of his Gryffindor courage. He focused back on her. “I was five,” he said.

“What?”

Pulling at his hair a little bit Remus gestured vaguely at where Cauld still slept “Greyback... he... gah – I was five.” he said a little desperately, trying to get his point across while also really not wanting to have to say it.

The girl tilted her head again, the same puzzle-solving face as before, except this time Remus saw her eyes flickering across the scars of his face. “Oh...” She said righting her head, having figured it out.

“Yeah...” he responded. He stared up at the ceiling wondering what had possessed him to think it would be a good idea to tell a child, one of his students, his lifelong secret, regardless of how scared she had seemed a moment ago, when she surprised him.

“I heard the Wolfsbane potion tastes dreadful.” His eyes flicked back to her. She was still biting her lip but now it seemed to be to try and hold back laughter.

The look crushed the wind out of him a little, he hadn't seen anyone that calm about him being a werewolf in over a decade. She was joking with him. It pushed a bubble of laughter up from deep inside him. 

“It's the worst!” He responded, still laughing. “Genuinely foul.”

They both laughed at this before, standing, Jamie pulled a jumper from her bag and rolled it before placing it under Cauld's still sleeping head.

Still smiling, Jamie pulled her bag up onto her shoulders. “I was meaning to ask, was any homework set on the lesson?”

Remus got up off the ground as well. “Yes, an essay on Boggarts, although I feel as though now your essay will be by far the most accurate. Did you know my father spent his entire adult life studying Boggarts? He got brought into committees for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures department of the Ministry and everything. He's going to blow a gasket when he finds out his life work was outdone by a girl with a jar of cream.” He joked.

The head tilt was back before she gasped and bounced from foot to foot, swinging her bag around and pulling out a very old and battered copy of “Non-human Spiritous Apparitions” by Lyall Lupin.

“This is your dad?” She asked, wonder painting her face.”His chapters on Fuaths and Ballywhites are so cool!” she whispered with awe.

Remus laughed outright at this. “I'll be sure to tell him that, it might go some way to soothe the bruising to his ego.” 

The last bell of the day echoed through the halls indicating the start of dinner. Remus grabbed up his wand from the desk and indicated that they should head out. The girl followed, still clutching her book and talking animatedly about water spirits. 

“So you and Luna both are on track to being magical creature experts, I hear Neville is quite a dab hand at Herbology, it's quite a task force you have there.”

“Well Luna prefers Beasts while I study Beings.” she clarified. “And Michael is brilliant at Potions.”

The two spoke animatedly all the way to the Great Hall.


	4. Tactics are Tricky, Vendettas are Vicious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my life is still a bit of a shambolic mess, but I wanted to write so here it is, probably gonna still come back and edit this later but still here you go.

Once the excitement of the boggart lesson had passed, Neville remembered to pass on the news regarding what had been dubbed by the school as “the hippogryph incident.” The first Monday of the term had ended with the first-ever Care of Magical Creatures lesson the newly minted Professor Hagrid had ever hosted.

By the account of Neville and the other third-year Gryffindors, they had been having an exciting lesson on the topic of Hippogryphs, very proud and noble creatures who were part giant eagle, part horse. That Draco Malfoy had taunted one of the beasts which had retaliated by rearing and scratching the boy.

By the account of the Slytherins, as relayed critically from Grace and Vee, Hagrid was an incompetent teacher who had endangered his students and that Malfoy had been horrifically mauled and continued to suffer.

Madam Pomfrey had apparently fully healed the wound, but Malfoy had remained in the hospital ward until Thursday and had thereafter, kept his arm in a sling and would tell anyone who would listen that it was still agonising.

From the second week onwards, even Neville, who still jumped every time his Monster Book of Monsters gave him a playful nip, bemoaned the completely boring Care of Magical Creatures lessons, which now involved little more than feeding lettuce to flobberworms.

Luna still insisted she wanted to go and meet some hippogryphs and flobberworms, regardless of their dangerous or boring status, so the pair of them spent their mornings down near Hagrid’s hut. Jamie would do her usual run while Luna spent time talking to Hagrid about all the completely harmless creatures he could teach about that weren’t flobberworms.

Once Jamie had run as much as she wanted, she would join Luna at Hagrids, trying to beg for at least a little glimpse at the Hippogriffs. He seemed to have been entirely deflated of confidence in his teaching, fretting about the fate of Buckbeak, the creature who had scratched Malfoy. But Hagrid couldn’t really stop the two of them from following him around like a pair of shadows wherever he went. The hippogriffs had been returned to a large pen and the two happily followed him as he went on his morning rounds to feed them.

Jamie and Luna watched as Hagrid fed them all dead rabbits and ferrets, watched him bow and watched them bow back before he approached any of them. By the end of the second week of term, Jamie had convinced Neville, Michael, and a handful of other third-year students, and even Ginny, to get up early every morning to follow Hagrid around as he went about his groundskeeper duties, notebooks in hand.

At first, Hagrid was terrified, but the students all maintained they were just taking in the morning air and staying out of his way. 

Back and forth along the grounds, the little crowd would follow the large man. Jamie started up a commentary about any Fae folk they spotted in the early morning. Luna had a long list of questions about the existence of various little-known creatures that she would ask Hagrid about. Often the questions were very purposefully made to be vague, which lured Hagrid into talking far more in the hopes of fixing misinformation about misunderstood creatures. If he noticed that his followers took meticulous notes of his answers, he didn’t mention anything.

Jamie even went to her favourite sources of information, the Weasley twins.

“What do you need a list of all the magical creatures we’ve ever learnt about for?” asked Fred “You’re not even old enough for Care of Magical Creatures classes.”

“It’s a nefarious scheme of mine,” Jamie said smugly. “After the whole Malfoy thing, Hagrid’s lost all confidence in his teaching, but he’s really smart, knows loads and just naturally talks about stuff. So we ask questions and he answers them but we’re running out of questions since we haven’t studied the subject before.”

Jamie had been skipping along sideways trying to keep up with the boy’s longer stride and had not noticed where she was going until she skipped right into Professor McGonagall.

“James Schwartz! Do I need to take points? Skipping in the corridors isn’t some bizarre way of getting around running in them is it?”

“No Professor! Sorry Professor!” Jamie answered promptly much to the twins’ amusement.

“What’s this about a nefarious scheme, then?” asked Professor Lupin with an amused grin as he peered around the older professor.

“Hagrid’s worried about teaching anything more dangerous than flobberworms after his first lesson, sir. So I assembled a team of people to follow him around in the morning while he goes about his groundskeeper duties and we ask questions and then write down his answers. We’ve learned quite a bit already but most of us are running out of questions to prompt him.” Jamie answered.

George chuckled “Absolutely no filter.” he mumbled under his breath, earning him a glare.

Professor McGonagall looked as though she had either bitten into a lemon or was trying to stop herself from laughing, it was difficult to tell with her sometimes. In any case, she was massaging the bridge of her nose. “It’s Professor Hagrid, Miss Schwartz,” she said primly.

“Oh. Right. Yup. Sorry.” Jamie replied.

Professor McGonagall let out a sigh of defeat before pointing at the twins sternly. “Boys, I would appreciate you aiding in Miss Schwartz’ project. Goodness knows if there is one thing she and her friends have a penchant for its research. And not a word to Hagrid about any of this scheming, you want to traipse around behind him at the crack of dawn for learning that’s fine, but he is a professor at this school and if he deems flobberworms to be an important aspect of the curriculum, that is his decision, understood?”

This time all three students answered with a resounding “Yes Professor!” The twins saluting like soldiers with mismatching mischievous grins, before each of them grabbed Jamie by an elbow and led her away with plotting whispers. 

None of them heard when Professor McGonagall turned back to her colleague to see a smug grin, nor did they hear when Professor Lupin offered Professor McGonagal an elbow to lead her to the Great Hall with a sarcastic quip of “Why, Minnie, I had no idea you had such a fondness for mischief.” to which the older witch scoffed, took his elbow and replied. “As I said, the girl is good at research! She and her friends were the ones who figured out gaps in defence learning which YOU have based your curriculum on. And if she happens to help Hagrid get his confidence back, all the better!”

The Weasley twins knew almost everyone and by the end of the third week of term, they had assembled a large variety of students from different year groups to join the morning patrol.

“What’s a Bicorn, Hagrid?” “What’s the difference between a bowtruckle and a stick insect, Hagrid?” “Why do Flesh-eating slugs destroy gardens if they eat flesh, Hagrid?” Were just some of the questions which bemused and exasperated the giant of a man until one morning he just came out with: “Look these are all great questions, but it would take hours to explain the answers, I’ve got groundskeeping to do in the morning, can’t go slacking now can I.”

“You’re right Hagrid,” answered Fred playing up looking crestfallen and chastised.

“Lee Jordan’s got a pet stick insect, Hagrid, could you maybe find a bowtruckle? Then in our lesson time, we could compare them, just so we don’t keep on interrupting your groundskeeping.” George queried.

Hagrid looked like a man stuck deep in working out a trick question, not quite sure what to make of the situation he found himself in until he mumbled. “S’pose there’d be no ‘arm in that. Give the flobberworms a bit o’ a break from being handled.”

The crowd cheered enthusiastically before slowly dispersing, most very clearly returning to their beds for an extra half hour of sleep. Each waving cheerily at Hagrid until only Jamie and Luna were left.

“Di’n know so many people were keen on the subject,” Hagrid said flummoxed, plonking himself down on a large tree stump and mopping his brow with a handkerchief.

Jamie nodded enthusiastically, “Oh yeah, loads of people! Don’t you remember how much people cheered when the Headmaster announced you were taking up the position?” Jamie asked, watching the colour rise in Hagrid’s cheeks. “There was even a list that went round of topics everyone was most excited to learn and some of the older students explained which ones they had learned at different year groups.”

Luna nodded along sagely. “I made a copy so I could read up on some of it. Neville even let me borrow his notes on his lessons.” She said, handing over a neatly copied page Fred and George had helped develop. It had a ministry of magic approved danger classification. 

“Apparently every previous year group has learned about Hippogryphs just fine,” Jamie continued “although, they didn’t get to pet or fly them until at least fifth year. George says Professor Kettleburn maintained he had to wait for obnoxious little swots like Malfoy to drop the course before he got to teach any of the bigger animals that needed the training to handle. But just about everyone in the school maintains your lesson was going entirely fine until Malfoy ignored your instructions, it was never your fault, or Buckbeak’s. And if you keep teaching flobberworms, it only just adds fuel to Malfoy’s lies. He thinks you can’t teach, but just look at how many people were so eager to learn from you that they were up at the crack of dawn all these weeks just to hear what they could. You should teach like how you’ve been teaching us. Show that slimy blond git that it’s him who just can’t learn.”

Hagrid sniffled but looked determined as he nodded seriously. “You’re right. I’d not be doing my duty to the school or Dumbledore if I don’t. Thank you, you two.” he said earnestly as he glanced over the list Luna had handed him. “Aye, I reckon there ain't no harm in most of these, since ministry categorisation says most of them are good for untrained people. Mr Cricket lives not far from here, got a bicorn farm, I bet he’d be willing to bring one over for a look-see.” He grinned, letting out a relieved breath, “Dumbledore’s said there ain't no grounds for firing me, even if Malfoy kicks up a fuss, not now that he’s not on the school board, I just hope Beaky won’t be in trouble.” 

Aside from reassuring Hagrid, the first month of term had been positively blissful. They finally had a competent Defence professor. Professor Lupin spent a good deal of time covering the topics that Lockhart had bungled the year before, he renewed the effort after the first pop quiz had a few too many students stand to answer a question, panic and then squeak out that Gilderoy Lockhart’s favourite colour was lilac.

There were a few mean spirited comments from some of the wealthier Slytherins regarding professor Lupin, mostly comments about his appearance or clothing, however, the vast majority of the school revelled under his tutelage. After the week on boggarts, Jamie was called into the Defence classroom to say goodbye to Cauld and to ask him if there was somewhere he would prefer to go. He requested a trip to the woods to reconnect with wild things. It had been many centuries since he had existed in willing service, said he quite enjoyed assisting with teaching and wanted to live nearby, after all, Brownies were just as good at shapeshifting as boggarts, but as a brownie, he could at least consent to participate.

After seeing Cauld off at the edge of the forest, Professor Lupin invited Jamie and Luna back to the Defence classroom to look over the topics he had put together as a curriculum for each year group, encouraging Jamie to point out which creatures were part of the Fae world and spoke Fae or elvish, so that he might be better at asking for class demonstrations. There were some creatures Jamie knew were uncooperative, many she had never heard of before but volunteered to help with translating to the fae if needed.

The lessons were instructive, practical and cohesive, a refreshing change from the previous year.

Potions, on the other hand, had gotten downright foul after professor Snape learned the story of Neville’s boggart assuming his shape. Despite Neville not even being in Jamie’s year group, their professor seemed to dole out punishment on the Gryffindors and on those he knew to be Neville’s friends. He was apparently bullying Neville worse than ever before in the third-year classes and, once when Neville knocked hesitatingly on the potion’s class door during Jamie’s lesson, asking after his schoolbag which he had forgotten by his bench the previous lesson, Professor Snape vindictively handed Neville all of his books and suggested that if the boy could not remember his own school bag, perhaps he should not have one and dismissed him from the room. It was Neville’s upset face as he scurried from the room that was the last straw for Jamie. She could feel a vindictive sort of rage building in her gut and noticed Ginny was looking just as angry beside her.

When the end of the lesson came, Jamie packed up her things and left the room, grabbing hold of Ginny to stop her from heading up to lunch, she shushed the ginger girl who immediately gained a devious glint in her eye that her older twin brothers would be proud of.

Jamie scrambled through her bag for the small bag of dried jerky she had left over from her first meeting with Cauld. She shook some of the meat out onto her hand, ignoring Ginny’s confused look. Then crouching low to the ground she peered back into the classroom where Professor Snape sat at his desk marking papers with a murderous look on his face.  
Jamie lifted her wand and pointed it carefully at Neville’s bag which had been flung unceremoniously at the classroom bin and missed.

“Mustellafarge” Jamie whispered. The transfiguration spell she and her friends had taken such pains to try and learn the previous year struck home. It may have been useless against a basilisk, but as Neville’s schoolbag transfigured down into five tiny weasels, she reasoned it was still a useful spell to know, if a bit unorthodox.

Without missing a beat, Jamie held out the hand full of dried beef and the weasels came running. Ginny caught on quickly and removed her cloak hastily to catch the creatures before Jamie got her hand bitten off. Dumping the beef jerky into the cloak and bundling it quickly. Jamie grabbed up the cloak and nodded hurriedly towards the exit of the dungeons.

“What exactly are you intending to do with five weasels?” Ginny whispered urgently to Jamie as they climbed the stairs.

“I didn’t really think that far ahead, I just know professor Snape can’t accuse us of stealing a confiscated object if he saw us leave the classroom and the confiscated object did in fact leave of its own volition.” Jamie said before stopping dead.

Professor Lupin stood at the top of the stairs to the dungeon, an amused eyebrow quirked. “Do I even want to know?” he asked.

Ginny looked panicked and snatched the squirming cloak-sack behind he back in a move that was honestly THE most suspicious move she could have made. Jamie rolled her eyes.

“Professor Snape confiscated Neville’s school bag.” Jamie said, giving an exasperated look at Ginny whose eyes boggled. “”what Ginny, I’m not going to lie?!”

“And you say his school bag left Professor Snape’s custody of its own volition.” Professor Lupin asked with a grin.

“Yup. Definitely. Unrelated topic, but you wouldn’t happen to know how to untransfigure five weasels would you?” Jamie asked, taking back possession of the squirming bundle.

“I had no idea schoolbags had such a proclivity to turn carnivorous.” Professor Lupin answered with a smile, peeking into the bundle before snatching his hand away when something tried to bite him. “Reparafarge.” he muttered while pointing the wand into the vicious bundle which suddenly gained weight and stopped moving. A quick peek confirmed the bundle now contained a harmless and perfectly intact school bag.

“I suspect it learned its viciousness from Neville’s copy of Monster Book of Monsters.” Jamie replied conversationally, before dropping her grin. “Are we going to be in trouble for this? It was my idea, Ginny shouldn’t lose any points for it.”

Ginny glared at Jamie “Hey, it’s my cloak, I was totally a part of this!”

Professor Lupin handed the ginger girl her cloak back and held out the school bag to Jamie. “I found Neville in a broom cupboard on the third floor. Some of the Slytherins have taken their head of house’s behaviour as encouragement for their own bullying. I was actually coming down to have a word with Professor Snape about it, not that it’s likely to do much good but all the same. No, you are not in trouble. Confiscating a student’s school equipment wasn’t a fair use of his position. And as you said, the bag left of its own volition. But now I’m curious, how did a pair of second years transfigure a school bag into five weasels, the two objects have little in common and you’re making the thing animated, alive and vicious?”

“Oh…” Jamie said awkwardly. “Last year there was a basilisk in the school and Michael, Luna and I read in a bestiary that weasels were the only things that could kill basilisks. We think it must have been a dodgy translation or something though, cause it also claimed basilisks were tiny. Anyway, we all practised turning different objects into weasels just in case we ended up facing it. Only, I’m pretty sure if I had tried to turn a rock into a weasel to set on the basilisk he would have gotten eaten.”

Ginny was staring at her “You never told me that!” 

Jamie shrugged. “Not like it worked, did it? Apparently, the actual thing to kill one was a rooster’s cry. It’s so bizarrely specific, even if they hadn’t all been killed I doubt anyone would have thought of diving into the Chamber of Secrets holding only Clucky the Chicken.”

Ginny snorted. Professor Lupin looked torn between horror and confusion and seemed to settle for shepherding the girls towards the Great Hall for lunch.

“We’ve got to get Hagrid to call one of his new roosters Clucky.” Ginny wheezed as the two headed to lunch.

~ ~ ~

To Jamie’s great delight, Ginny seemed to revel in the mischief and vigilante justice that “the weasel incident” had awoken. Gone was the quiet, shy girl of the previous year. The girl was near territorial in her protectively fierce attitude towards her new friends.

She had taken to the motley assortment of friends with enthusiasm, she had lively debates with Vee and Grace regarding Quidditch, had a similar dry sarcastic wit to Michael and helped Neville to an extent by running through a basic checklist in the mornings before they both left their common room for breakfast. Neville’s memory was still worse than a sift but at least he hadn’t been down to breakfast with his shoes on the wrong feet in a while. But, in Jamie’s opinion, the best change that had awoken in the other girl was her fiery need for justice.

Ginny still didn’t really know how to relate to Luna, But it didn’t stop her from shooting a well-aimed hex at a group of second years she had overheard calling Luna names. No amount of second-year level hexes, however, were really cut out to deal with Professor Snape.

Despite Neville profusely and honestly explaining that he had found his school bag beside his bed up in Gryffindor tower and just assumed the house-elves had returned it, Professor Snape had taken the disappearance of the confiscated item from under his own nose as a personal affront and took it all out on Neville.

Jamie and Ginny kept glancing guiltily at one another, they hadn’t told anyone about the weasel incident, Ginny had just returned the bag quietly, but with Neville’s head hanging lower with every passing day, Slytherins snatching random items of his when he wasn’t looking so he was never sure if he had simply misplaced the thing, the two girls were in complete agreement. Something HAD to be done.

“Again, we CAN’T try anything big, Gin, whatever else he is still a professor!” Jamie reiterated one morning over breakfast.

“But we have to do something! I know he was your friend, but Neville’s also a Gryffindor, Snape’s been taking points from him on a nearly lesson by lesson basis. Yesterday, he took 5 points because Neville was apparently “loitering” when he was waiting for me to finish Transfiguration cause he knows I have that with the Slytherins, and while Michael, Grace and Vee are nice enough at mealtimes, they still keep to themselves in lessons with Gryffindor.” Ginny huffed.

“I know, but it’s not like we can really do anything to get our own back. The one and only reason I almost miss Gilderoy Lockhart is cause he irritated the heck out of Snape. Maybe he could have taught us how to make one of those heart confetti clouds follow him around.” Jamie laughed.

Luna, who up until now had been in her own world reading Neville’s copy of the Monster Book of Monsters that he had forgotten in the homework room yesterday, looked up.

“I don’t think confetti would work, he’d just dismiss the cloud instantly. I don’t think he’s the sort of person most pranks would work on, he’d just stop them.”

“Unless he didn’t know he was being pranked…” Jamie said with a thoughtful lilt.

Luna nodded sagely, “I read about a spell that changed the colour of clothing for anyone but the person wearing the clothes. It’s a very advanced spell, unfortunately, otherwise, you could have slowly turned his robes canary yellow.”

Jamie giggled, “I don’t think I’d recognise him in such a bright happy colour, we’ll have to leave that one on the backburner then, but we’ll keep thinking, there has to be something.”

At the very least, the rest of lessons were a welcome relief, Professor Lupin had apparently subtly reported back to professor McGonnigal that Jamie and her friends had spent last year learning to transfigure random objects into weasels for the sake of defence against Basilisks. She was incredibly put out that none of them had told her this directly and at the end of a lesson Jamie and Luna were both asked to demonstrate, Michael having been asked to do the same at the end of his own lesson. The trio walked away with 10 house points apiece.

Charms had also proved to be interesting, after the shambles of a duelling club last year, Professor Flitwick had decided to intersperse basic defensive and duelling charms with his normal curriculum, however, he had also decided to reinstate Jamie’s extra practice lessons for some spells after a dual lesson in the featherweight and lead weight charms ended with Jamie’s shoes being hit with the lead weight charm. No one even really noticed that Jamie was struggling to leave the classroom until the Professor asked the girl if there was something bothering her.

It bugged her no end that if she was ever challenged in a duel, she would have better luck transfiguring her opponent into something than actually defending herself. She loved charms, but really, all things considered, she was a bit more of a hazard to herself and others unless she had practised the charm extensively.

It was this line of thinking that meant Jamie was distracted in potions class. She was applying and removing featherweight and lead weight charms to her pencil case when a large leather-bound tome was slammed down on the desk.

“Schwarts! What have I told you about daydreaming in my lessons?” Professor Snape’s cold voice sneered.

“Umm…” Jamie said inelegantly, looking around and trying to get her bearings. A glance at Ginny informed her that they were meant to be thinly slicing up beetles. “I… I wasn’t daydreaming, sir, I was trying to use magic to stop the beetles moving around while we cut them.”

“The beetles are dead, Schwarts, they shouldn’t be moving around at all,” Snape replied scathingly.

“Yes, sir, but their shells are really smooth so as you cut down, the knife slips and the beetle ends up moving. I was trying to find a way to get them to stay in the same place to avoid slipping and cutting myself by accident, sir.”

“Just get on with it, Schwarts!” professor Snape said, taking the great tome of a book with him as he headed back to his desk at the front of the room.

Professor Snape loved carrying that book around and slamming it down on desks. Ginny cast her a smirk and a playful tut for her very obvious lack of attention to the lesson, but a thought had wiggled its way into Jamie’s brain and she couldn’t help as a smile slowly crept onto her face. Ginny arched a brow but Jamie signalled that they would talk later.

“The book!” Jamie said excitedly in an undertone as the two made their way to lunch.

“What about it?” asked Ginny, trying to keep her voice down.

“He’s always got it in lessons, always picking it up and slamming it down. We can’t target Snape directly, but if we targeted the book, he wouldn’t notice.”

“You’ve lost me, you want to rig a prank to the book?”

“Yup”

“Does he even read the book, or open it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” answered Jamie with a grin.

“Spill it, then,” whispered Ginny, already on board with the plan.

~ ~ ~ 

It took a week and a half. Neville was nervous but got on board when he was told all he would have to do would be the final act, and only when Snape’s bullying got to a point that Neville thought he deserved it.

Jamie had gotten the idea from Nicole over the summer holidays. When Jamie had met up with her old primary school friends over the summer, Nicole had reported the nefarious deeds her younger brother had begun concocting, including a prank targeting their older teenage sister Mary who spent most of her days with the house telephone practically glued to her ear nattering away with her plethora of friends and bemoaning the tragedy of her life. Nicole and her brother had taken to unscrewing the handset every night and adding a few pennies with some sticky tack to hold them firm before closing the thing up again. Over time, the handset had become heavier and heavier with Mary none the wiser, and then they removed all the coins one night and waited.

The procedure here was similar, except instead of coins, Jamie, Luna, Ginny and Michael all added a single, teeny tiny weight charm to the book at the start of each of their Potions lessons. Neville would have the ability to remove all the charms at once if he chose to do so.

The trouble was, after a week and a half of ever-increasing jeers and mockery, Neville still hadn’t pulled the trigger. He would brush off even the worst insults targeting his intelligence or ability. By this point, his friend’s over-exuberance to defend his honour had Snape hefting and slamming the book that was no doubt at least three times its original weight.

Jamie would have been concerned that the professor would notice, but he seemed rather distracted by the satisfaction of the nearly heartstopping smack the book made whenever it was slammed down. The smug gin he wore seemed to indicate he thought it was all just his own handiwork.

Michael was sufficiently enraged by the whole thing.

“Why’s he got to be such a stubborn Gryffindorish idiot about it though?” he ranted under his breath while angrily stabbing into the puffapod they were working on deseeding in Herbology.

“Who?” Jamie queried.

“Nev,” Michael answered as though this was obvious. “He thinks braving his way through it is the best course of action.”

“Well… He IS a Gryffindor, braving their way through stuff is kind of their thing.” 

“But… he’s my friend. And Snape being head of my house or not, what he’s doing is just.... unprofessional.”

“Vengeance, now sponsored by professional ethics.” Jamie quipped.

The pair were interrupted by Professor Sprout with a large wooden crate.

“I need you two to run this up to the castle, Professor Snape needs them for his next lesson, there’s only 10 minutes left of this lesson, but I can already see I’ll need all the time I can get to clear up the mess of these puffa pods.

Michael and Jamie cleared the solid and seeds from their hands and packed up their bags before each taking up an end of the crate.  
The scene that met them at the potions room, however, was nearly enough to make Michael drop his end of the crate.

They were interrupting the tail end of the third years Gryffindor and Slytherin lesson, Snape was looming over Neville, an absolutely foul smell was emanating from his cauldron and he sat hunched in his seat his face pale and his fingers quaking. Neville barely looked up when Jamie and Michael entered the classroom, only glancing when Professor Snape wheeled around to shout at the two intruders.

Jamie was horrified to notice the other Slytherins openly snickering at Neville while the other Gryffindors cast pitying looks his way. Michael was all but growling behind Jamie. Jamie tactfully lowered the crate to avoid it getting dropped.

“Professor Sprout asked us to bring these for your next lesson, sir,” Jamie said tightly, casting an anxious glance at Neville who didn’t even look up. The book had been slammed down beside him and Jamie honestly regretted having set in motion a plan to make the book more of a threat to student’s anxiety. It felt nauseatingly like aiding in the Professor’s sick power trip.

Michael cast a meaningful glance at Jamie when Professor Snape told them to take the crate through to the storeroom. Michael hefted the crate up and when they were both through the storeroom doors he hissed “Do it or I will”.

Jamie nodded and carefully aimed her wand back towards the classroom and the book. Snape had turned back to Neville’s cauldron and was continuing to berate whatever mistake had occurred.

“Gravitas Penne” Jamie whispered while Michael dusted his hands and made a show of checking over the crate. 

They hurried from the storeroom and Michael coughed, trying to distract the professor from his torment of Neville. “Will that be all, professor?” he asked icily.

“Yes, now get out!” Snape sneered.

The two turned to escape but turned back when they heard a deafening THWACK, just in time to see Snape flail backwards into another student’s table.

The class erupted into laughter. Snape had overcompensated for the weight of the book as he had gotten used to it, and as he had picked it up, he had hurled it right into his large hooked nose.

Professor Snape looked thunderous and was glaring around the room, trying to spot the culprit for his mortification even while clutching his bleeding nose.

His eyes snapped to a snickering Gryffindor with messy hair “POTTER!!!!”

Jamie and Michael glanced at each other, and with an imperceptible nod, Michael grabbed Jamie by the wrist and yanked her from the classroom before she could do something stupid like indignantly claim back the credit.

“Ginny’s gonna fume!” Jamie whispered even as she let herself be dragged. “not only did she miss seeing that, but the blame got put directly on that Potter kid, what on earth do you think Snape’s got against that kid?”


	5. The Baffling Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a long one, but here you all go. My life is still in chaos but I am at least writing more frequently.  
> WARNING ABOUT SLIGHT BLOOD MENTION  
> It's a bit of a long chapter but there you go, that's what happens when I am left to my own devices with no internet for three weeks.  
> One of the things that I kind of found irritating about POA is that JK Rowling very much makes up when there is a full moon for plot reasons, and sure, I am a little bit pedantic but as I mentioned near the start of this fic, JK put a werewolf on a train full of students on a night that would have been a full moon, I find that sort of thing kind of funny. Because unlike stuff like the weather which is just good for symbolism and not nearly as easily tracked, so can be made up fairly easily, the moon is the moon and the canonical mentions of when the full moon is is honestly just so randomised.  
> I guess what I am saying is that it means little bits between my fic and the original text will be a bit squiffy if you look closely.  
> An example is in this chapter, in PoA Harry visits Remus on the 31st of October, which is listed as a Hogsmeade Saturday, whereas if you take the widely accepted dateline and say PoA was the 1993/1994 school year, you run into problems like, the full moon being on the 1st of September, Halloween being a Sunday etc.  
> The way I kind of get around this is having it be a Hogsmeade "Weekend" as in Saturday and Sunday. Harry visit, Remus, on the Saturday (the 30th of October) which is the night of the full moon so it still makes sense that Snape would bring him his potion. I know, I could just ignore it all and follow canon exactly but it did bug me.

Jamie woke screaming. It was her first nightmare since returning to Hogwarts, which was surprising given the facing down of her boggart. She had almost managed to forget the horrified faces of the creatures petrified and somewhere deep below the school.

Jamie tried to calm her breathing, Bast carefully butting her head against her knee. Jamie brushed her sweaty bangs away from her face when something caught her eye. Her hand was dark and sticky, she looked down at her sheets and screamed, scrambling out of her blankets.

The door slammed open to reveal Patty and the new 5th-year female prefect holding a large lamp. 

“We heard screaming,” Patty said weakly, taking in the scene.

Jamie was staring in horror at her hands trying desperately to breathe.

“Jamie?... It is Jamie, right?” The prefect said approaching her carefully. “It’s okay, this is completely natural.”

Jamie stared at the older girl like she was out of her mind. “I’m bleeding out, how is this natural?!”

The older girl snorted inelegantly before sobering. “You’re not bleeding out, your period just started, the same thing happened to one of my friends a couple of years back, woke up in the middle of the night. Welcome to womanhood!”

Jamie continued looking unconvinced and horrified, turning to look at the carnage of her bedsheets. “Ew… Womanhood sucks!”

The prefect snickered. “A little, yeah, but you get used to it. KISLEY!”

A small POP sounded and suddenly a little house elf wearing a clean, floral motif pillowcase dress with the embroidered Hogwarts logo on her front pocket.

“Miss Leena called?” she said in a high voice.

“Ah, yes Kisley, we could use some help.” the prefect answered nodding in the direction of Jamie and the bed.

The little elf examined the scene and nodded sagely before snapping her fingers. Within moments, the bed had been stripped of its sheets and changed for crisp new linens of the same Hufflepuff black and gold.

Kisley then laid out a fresh set of pyjamas from Jamie’s wardrobe before giving a curt bow. “Miss should leave her things in the wash basket, Kisley has them back clean tomorrow.” and with that, she disappeared with a pop.

“I’m Leena Shaw by the way,” the prefect said with a tired smile, “Do you have any sanitary supplies? Cause if not we can get some from Madam Pomfrey while you have a quick shower.”

Jamie nodded shakily and got out the small bag of sanitary products Julia Harris had packed.  
“Know how to use it?”

Jamie nodded again.

“That’s good, you should probably check in with Madam Pomfrey in any case, she likes to make sure all the girls have a clear knowledge on this sort of stuff. Come on kiddo, grab your dressing gown and bathing stuff, I’ll make you a hot chocolate when you get out.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur, Jamie remembered being shepherded from the bathroom back to her dorm to put away her things before being handed a large mug of hot chocolate and then herded up through the quiet halls of the school to the hospital wing. Dawn was just breaking and it wasn’t much earlier than she would have normally woken, but Jamie felt exhausted and irritable.

Madam Pomfrey had tutted sympathetically. “No medals for this sort of thing I’m afraid love, at least on the bright side, I’m well stocked on dark chocolate at the moment, good against dementors as well as monthlies.” She said, hammering off a block for Jamie.

Grace and Luna came in less than 10 minutes later, finding Jamie curled up on one of the hospital ward beds clutching a hot water bottle.

“Are you alright, James?” Grace asked. “Only, I had a house-elf turn up in my dorm. She said she knew we were friends and that you were in here. I found Luna coming to look for you too.”

“Sorry.” Jamie whimpered “I’ll be okay.”

Grace scanned the room from a fairly unconcerned looking Bast, to a very unconcerned Madam Pomfrey and finally back to Jamie curled around the hot water bottle. “Oh, Merlin, it started, didn’t it?”

Jamie peered up at her. “Did it hurt you this much? I feel stupid but it hurts to move.”

“Mine’s not that bad, I found some nice warming charms you can do to the inside of your jumper.”

Luna was looking quizzical and Jamie decided to just cut to the chase. “Menstruation, Lu. We’re talking about periods. I woke up covered in blood.”

“Oh,” Luna said simply. “My mother told me a little about that, not much though, it hurts?”

“For some people more than others,” Grace answered with a nod.

“What I don’t get,” said Jamie, “Is why there aren’t any lessons on this sort of stuff. The muggle schools all get lessons on it.”

“The muggles… get taught… in like a classroom? About this?! But… but it’s private!” Grace said aghast.

“It’s a perfectly normal thing that happens to about half the world’s population, why shouldn’t it get taught in a classroom like any other subject? The three of us are pretty decent proof of how parental passing on of knowledge isn’t always possible or accurate.”

Grace seemed to consider this, still not entirely comfortable with the idea, but conceding the point by changing the subject. “You should get some breakfast.”  
After prying her from the warm embrace of the hot water bottle, Grace swiftly applied some solid warming charms to Jamie’s jumper and then frog marched her to the Great Hall to ply her with toast and tea.

Luna began immediately asking about this new topic of conversation she had limited knowledge about, much to Grace’s chagrin.

“But why do we bleed, also why once a month?” Luna asked curiously.

Grace looked scandalised, “Luna, you shouldn’t talk about it so openly! What if a boy hears???”

“Then they might stand to learn some basic science and the world might be a better place,” Jamie said dryly. “Anyway, Lu, it happens cause of hormonal cycles, I can grab my biology textbook before first lesson if you want?”

“Hormonal cycles?” Luna asked confused.

“Ah… yeah, I forgot you won’t have learned about that. Hormones are chemicals in the body that signal it to do stuff… it’s kind of like when you drink a potion except the potion just kind of… exists in a part of your body until it needs to be released, the book is better at explaining it though.”

At that point, Michael, Vee, Ginny and Neville joined them. Grace immediately gave Luna and Jamie a stern look of warning and indicated locking her lips.

“What are we talking about?” Michael asked with a yawn.

Jamie gave Grace a snarky smile, “I was explaining menstruation to Lu, badly. I can’t believe Hogwarts doesn’t teach a basic biology class.”

Grace’s mouth dropped open in abject horror. Michael, on the other hand, just shrugged, “Yeah, it is a bit stupid. There are all sorts of stuff I learned over the summer that my primary school friends learned last year. I get that magic is a big multifaceted topic, but really, what about people who want to become healers? Are they going to have to wait until their apprenticeships to learn basic concepts?”

“What’s menstruation?” asked Neville.

Grace, Ginny and Vee all paled. Grace tried to cover Jamie’s mouth but she swatted the hand away. “It’s a biological process that happens in girls starting in their teenage years. Basically just a part of growing up. But weirdly no one seems comfortable talking about it.” Jamie answered.

“Oh.” said Neville, “Why?”

Grace looked as though she were about to hyperventilate.

“I don’t know, weird tradition from the Victorian era is my guess, it’s also a bit painful and messy as far as I’m told and somehow over time, since it only happens to girls, men just decided it wasn’t something to be interested in mostly,” Michael said between bites of toast.

Neville looked rather horrified, “It hurts??? And girls aren’t allowed to talk about it? That’s stupid. Does it last for life? You don’t think Gran’s been in pain this whole time and not said anything do you?”

Ginny seemed to shake herself. She still looked a little uncomfortable but she placed a hand gently on Neville’s arm and said “Your Gran should be fine, Nev. Mum told me they stop when a woman gets to her 50s, and it’s only about 3-5 days every month.”

Neville seemed comforted but still shook his head, “Even so, that’s… over a month per year! Also, what do you mean messy?”

“Well, I woke up in a pool of my own blood this morning,” Jamie said with a cheeky grin thrown at Grace. “For the rest of the month, your body grows a lining in the womb, it’s basically so that when a woman gets pregnant, there is like a nice environment for the baby, but since bodies can’t know when a woman actually wants a baby, it just makes the lining every month and then sheds it. Takes a couple of days to get it all out and your stomach cramps to try and help get it out, that’s why it hurts.”

Luna looked intrigued, the boys slightly horrified and the other girls were staring at Jamie until Ginny broke the silence.

“Yours started last night? Merlin that sounds horrible, does it always start so… abruptly?”

Jamie shrugged. “Mrs Harris said it starts at different times in different ways for different people. she says for most, you get used to spotting like signs and feel it coming.”

“That’s pretty cool. Have you written home about it yet? Mum told me to write to her when mine starts, said it was the mark of me becoming a woman. I think in my family we have a weird tradition of all the women gathering for some special lunch or something, I’ve never been invited but I remember mum saying something about it when one of my cousins started.”

“S’pose I should,” Jamie said pulling out a piece of paper and beginning her letter.

“James Schwarts! You CAN NOT write home with the message “IT has begun. ALL is pain. When will the suffering end?” They’ll be really worried!” Grace admonished, reading over her shoulder and whacking her shoulder with a homework planner.

“Ow! Well, it’s true, and what am I supposed to write? “To whom it may concern, the dawn of womanhood has arrived, please send aid?”

This earned Jamie another whack from the homework planner and a chuckle from the rest of her friends..

~ ~ ~

Julia Harris was a godsend. two days after writing home, Jamie received a large package of extra supplies, including several packets of camomile tea with a sticky note label identifying them as being “for nausea”, a few slabs of dark chocolate “for iron and for mood”, a pack of ibuprofen for pain and a long rectangular rice bag that could be microwaved and wrapped around the waist. The only issue was the complete lack of microwaves at Hogwarts, however, Grace’s warming charms did the job perfectly well.

Along with this parcel was Jamie’s birthday present, wrapped in the usual brown paper with a sticky note telling Michael to confiscate it and keep it until the actual big day, a job he took on wholeheartedly.

It was October and aside from the chill in the air and the trees turning a vibrant shade of red and gold beside the evergreen pines, there was also one other change to Jamie and her friends’ lives, and that was one very quidditch mad Ginny.

The Gryffindor team had apparently struck early, booking the pitch four evenings a week. The Slytherin team had taken the other three evenings of the week along with Saturday mornings. Leaving the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs to haggle over the remaining six mornings of the week. They were apparently able to come to a very sensible arrangement where, in the run-up to a game where one of them would play one of the other teams, they would have four training slots to the other’s two, while when they were building up to play a match against each other, they would each have three sessions, and try and have their head of house haggle with Slytherin and Gryffindor for a fourth slot each. All this being said, Ginny was irritated to note that not even her own house was open to letting her sit and watch the practices, something about the Captain’s general paranoia.

It was due to this that Jamie found herself being dragged toward the Hufflepuff quidditch tryouts early on Sunday morning.

“But I don’t even particularly LIKE quidditch!” she complained to Ginny as the red-haired girl dragged her and Luna away from their typical running zone towards the stadium.

“But you’re the only Hufflepuff I know and Hufflepuff is the only house I know that’s currently both looking for new players and allowing friends to watch the tryouts and practice sessions.”

“You want me to try out for a game I don’t particularly know much about so that you can take notes so that you can get on your team? How do I know you aren’t just spying on the team to report intel to the Gryffindors? Maybe that Captain of yours was right about not allowing spies.” Jamie giggled, unbothered.

Ginny seemed to consider it for a moment. “Nah, I think Yardley was onto something when she talked about how the teams work. Hufflepuff has almost never beaten Gryffindor. I just want you to try out cause I think you’ll like it more than you think you will… and it doesn’t hurt that you and I have a similar build so if you get any good pointers, you can pass that on to me.”

Jamie let out a longsuffering sigh and continued to let herself be dragged along. “I’m missing my run for this. If I start jumping off the walls later, that’s on you.”

“Pish posh, the teams always start off with a warm-up jog, besides, think of the adrenalin! It’ll be fun.”

“You have a weird idea of fun, Gin, I don’t even have a broom.”

“Hufflepuffs do all their tryouts on school brooms since they see it as fairer.”

“Well… yeah… what on Earth does Gryffindor do? Just have a battle of the broomstick? Isn’t that kind of elitist?” Jamie asked confused.

Ginny snickered. “You know, sometimes I wonder if you were put in the right house, and then you get on a rant about fairness and I can see exactly why the Sorting Hat pegged you for a ‘Puff.”

“Actually, the hat was fairly set on me being in anything BUT Hufflepuff,” Jamie said smugly

“Huh? What changed its mind?”  
“I really love badgers,” Jamie said with a grin, flicking the crocheted badger key ring that still hung proudly from her bag. “Honey badgers are badass!”

Ginny snickered. “Alright then, prove your badger badassery on the pitch then, Schwarts!”

Jamie rolled her eyes but handed over her bag when it was time to part ways. Ginny and Luna taking the long staircase up to the seating area while Jamie made her way across the dew-soaked pitch.

The current team members all wore black vests trimmed in yellow while those trying out were each handed a bright canary yellow vest in order for the team to better keep an eye on them during the tryout.

The team was composed of the Captain, who also happened to be the 5th year prefect, one beater, the keeper and two chasers, although one of the chasers was in her last year and so was keeping an eye out for reserves to be trained to replace her.

Jamie was thrown a yellow vest from the pile and pulled it on. It was rather too large for her and she caught an amused laugh from the boy who had thrown it to her. She tugged awkwardly on the vest while looking at the other try out participants. There was a rather odd assortment of attendees on the pitch. There were a few boys Jamie recognised from her own year group, raucously jibing each other over which of them would get the converted position on the team. Jamie overheard them mention Harry Potter and his near unheard of title of the youngest seeker in a century. But the majority of the group were older students, clutching their own brooms or chatting amicably. Jamie hopped from foot to foot with her pent up energy and caught a glance of Ginny and Luna in the stands alongside a handful of other viewers, they flashed a thumbs up and Jamie grinned and shook her head at them. In fairness, now that she was here she was excited to give it a go. She had enjoyed her flying lessons in the previous year, it was just that she didn’t really see how quidditch could be that much more fun than running.

“Right,” called the captain, interrupting the babble “Can everyone gather round, please? Brill. Welcome, everyone. I know this time of morning isn’t really most people’s cup of tea, but since our training slots are all likely going to be in the mornings, being an early bird is a bit of a prerequisite.”

This was met with some murmuring, particularly from the older students.

“I’m Cedric Diggory, this is my first year as captain for the team, this here on my left,” he indicated the boy who had thrown Jamie the vest, “is Xander Hoult, our only current beater and also co-captain of the team. Today we are looking for our second beater and third chaser, but unlike the other house teams, we’re looking to find and maintain a full set of reserves, one for each player position. It means that unlike the other teams, when we practice, we have people to play against. It’s a new strategy, but we think it’s going to give us a real boost. Most teams just have players try out for positions of their choice and only those positions, we’re going to instead have every participant try every position alongside our current team, that way we can see your potential in different areas. It keeps people from just going after the position played by a favourite national or regional team player. At least, that’s the theory.” Diggory smiled tightly, before turning to Hoult with a little nod.

Hoult slapped his hands together. “Alrighty, unfortunately for the lot of you,” he nodded to all the students with their own brooms, “you won’t be getting to use any of those.” he grinned as a series of groans went out. “We’re starting off completely on the ground, first we’re checking skill with a beater’s bat, whether you can hit balls away from you, then to aim your hits at specified targets, then moving targets, next you’ll alternate between chaser and keeper positions, again on the ground. We’ve played in all sorts of weather and the amount of physical ability you go through, the cold high-speed wind, different things coming at you from all directions, we believe physically running around does a much better job simulating a full game where you are stressed and tired than a friendly trial with things slow and steady.”

One of the younger boys raised a hand like he was in a lesson and Hoult smothered a grin. “Yes?”

“What about the seeker position?” the boy asked

Hoult smiled over at Diggory before answering. “Currently the position is filled, we are looking for a reserve though. Seekers need good reflexes, so by observing your reflexes in the other tasks we’ll have a read of how good you are, after that we can start doing tasks on brooms trying to catch golf balls.”

What followed was most definitely the most unquittich-like thing Jamie had come across, and Jamie was having a ball. Pun intended. 

She didn’t have much strength for the beaters trials, but they started off with lighter balls to test accuracy, she was able to hit every one, not far, but she could hit them. When they changed up the ball to actual uncharmed bludgers, the best she could do was dodge them. But the team still explained that being able to dodge bludgers was still an important skill for any member of the team.

Her time as keeper was less than stellar, she could normally run fast enough to get to where the quaffle was headed but her frame was so small that it left too many openings available.

Chaser training was far more like football or rugby, everyone was teamed up and tried to pass the quaffle to their teammates and were called on to take a turn throwing toward the goals without the opposite team taking the ball. Jamie was fast, but that didn’t help much when a large burley 5th-year boy was trying to snatch a ball out of your hands by tackling her.

Diggory ran over to where Jamie was dusting herself off from her most recent tumble. “You okay.”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, just not too sure how much good I’d be on the team if I can’t actually get anywhere near the goals, still fun though,” she said with a grin.

“Huh, you’re a scrappy one. But you’re not thinking like a flyer.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re fast, even when you have a whole team after you you are pretty good at twisting and dodging out of the way. A broom responds to that so if you can do it on the ground you can almost certainly do the same in the air. The only difference is, right now, your teammates can only help you on a flat plane here. In the air, they could be above or below you. You could have the quaffle and have all their chasers tagging you, a feint or a good dodge might buy enough time to pass the quaffle to another chaser who isn’t getting tagged.”

“I guess… I’m still not that strong though, you have to be strong to throw fast and hard to get passed a keeper.”

“That’s true, but again, that’s why it’s a team sport. See Ian Duncan over there, can barely dodge for anything. Elbows to the ribs, kick to the shins, he doesn’t dodge, but he can throw a goal through an unguarded hoop from about midfield so he sticks around the top quarter, the other two chasers tag team to get the quaffle to him, then it doesn’t matter if only one chaser is scoring.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

Diggory smiled and called over Ian Duncan and the other team chaser Erica Rhodes. “I want to test a theory,” Diggory said, pointing to Jamie. “The kid is fast, I reckon she’d be almost Potter levels of fast with a decent broom and some experience, none of the other teams have small chasers cause of the Slytherin tactic of muscle over tactics, but I think with time and practice, she might be able to out dodge them. I want you two to try a number 7 run with her. We’ll try the other runs appropriate for the other candidate’s skillsets after, but I just want to see if this idea floats.”

The other two nodded “Tell Xander to pick out the top three he thinks are good for beaters, have them stand on opposite sides two on two, we’re going to try to play this as close to a game run as possible.”

Jamie was looking confused as the other two left to give directions. 

“Everyone has their own set of strengths and weaknesses, we worked out some different playthroughs of how different types of chasers might work tactically with Ian and Erica. You match number 7, the fast, small dodging one. Now you’re gonna pass back and forth with Erica until you get to Ian and then you are going to keep the target on you for as long as possible, get as close to the goals as possible while you still have a hold of the quaffle then pass to Ian. Ian’s gonna try keeping some of the bigger guys from getting too close. Sound good?”

Jamie nodded.

Diggery left to gather up the rest of the team before making an announcement. The reserve Keeper was announced, along with the new Beater and two reserve beaters. leaving a group of ten, the four boys from Jamie’s year group were then congratulated on a wonderful tryout, told what skills they had demonstrated, all four seemed to be well on their way to growing the perfect builds for keepers or beaters in later years, before getting a handshake each from the team and sent back to the school. Six remained. Jamie noticed Ginny up in the stands bouncing on the edge of her seat.

“So you six are looking to be out best candidates for chasers or reserve chasers. I’ve been noting down your techniques so I’m gonna go through each of you to talk over your skills and what sort of tactic I want you to try with our two team beaters. That way we can figure out who's looking like the best choice for this year and who is good but needs some training. I tend to believe that if you’re a good chaser you can be a good seeker, you just have to be half decent at finding objects, which, as Hufflepuffs we kind of pride ourselves in, so the three who make the reserve squad are going to take turns training against me since just me sitting around looking for the snitch isn’t exactly going to help me get better at the job.”

With that, the team ran through feedback with each of the chaser candidates while the beaters got set up.

The try out participants each took their turn at the gauntlet. With three acting as the opposing team while one took their run alongside Ian and Erica. There was a tall 6th year who fought back as good as she got, taking a direct route or a 4th-year boy who was good at realistic feints. Finally came Jamie’s turn. She was glad for all of her practice with running, given how much of it she had been doing today. Her run involved the most twists, turns, pivots and all-out sprinting. She was almost at her mark, as close to the goal as she could get, when a 5th year, who had snuck around Ian managed to stand dead in her path. Jamie barely stopped to think about it, she kept running straight at him. He opened his arms wide as though to embrace her. When she was almost close enough for him to grab, she rocked back in her track, and spun while stepping out forward and to the right. The boy saw her anti-clockwise motion and reached left, missing him as she spun right past him like a move in a dance, ducking neatly under his arm and immediately passed the quaffle to Ian. The ball sailed in a whooshing curve right into a goal that not even the team’s own keeper was able to stop.

Ian came bounding back across the field with a grin on his face. “Though he had you there, Miss Fancy Feet.”

Jamie chuckled before heading back over to where the group was assembling for final announcements.

The team were grinning delightedly as they thanked everyone once again for trying out. A 7th-year boy graciously took his defeat, remarking that he figured it wouldn’t have been good for the team to pick him since he was leaving at the end of the year but thanked the team for their time. A 5th-year girl chewed her lip and nodded morosely after the team indicated that they were concerned that she threw the quaffle away whenever a bludger or an opposing team member got too close, and it was always accompanied by stiffening and then freezing completely. They reminded her that she was excellent at passing and receiving in other ways and the 5th years on the team who had known her for years remarked how they knew she was an excellent flyer but just needed to work on her fear if she wanted to be on the team. And that left four. The 6th year girl who was strong and fighty was named the third official chaser, Jamie and the two boys were reserves.

Jamie gaped incredulously up at the stands where Ginny and Luna were gaping right back. She had entered the pitch with next to no inclination to even be there and here she was on the team. 

The team spent a little while discussing with the new recruits. Jamie was given instructions NOT to buy a new broom just yet. Old alumni of the team had left some old brooms in storage, good for training and getting to know what style of broom would work for a player. Jamie was to begin training tomorrow morning.

~ ~ ~

Ginny, after being assured that there was no need for outrage regarding not making the actual team, became a very steadfast and ardent supporter.

“Nev and Ron both said something about the first Hogsmeade weekend of term coming up, maybe you could have him check out the broom shop while he’s down. I could find you a copy of “Which Broomstick?” and you could put an order in.” She said talking a mile a minute.

“The team said not to buy a broomstick yet since there are some spare old ones to check out to get an idea of good and bad features,” Jamie informed her with a smile.  
“I guess, but you already know you want to rely on speed and manoeuvrability.”

Jamie let herself be led to the Great Hall where Ginny scuttled off to talk to her brothers before returning with what looked almost like an Argos catalogue, but every page was broomsticks.

“Just have a look at the different options,” Ginny said ardently, shoving the book under Jamie’s sceptical face, “At least that way you’ll know what to feel for when you try -”

They were interrupted when Neville, Hermione, Ron and Harry entered the Hall for Breakfast. Hermione and Ron were shouting at each other while Harry looked uncomfortable. Neville scurried over to them with the tips of his ears red. He hated conflict.

“What’s that about?” Ginny asked him.

“Oh. Um, Ron’s convinced Hermione’s cat is out to get his pet rat. He wants Hermione to keep her cat in her dormitory instead of letting it out where it might try and hunt. They’ve been shouting about it all morning.”

“I thought the school letter last year said pets had to be an owl or a cat or a toad, did that rule only come in recently?” Jamie asked.

“It used to be Percy’s rat,” Ginny answered. “When Percy started school rats, hamsters, and rabbits were still allowed so long as you could prove they weren’t going to breed. But there were too many problems with cats and owls getting at the cages. Mum got a letter home saying that current pets could continue being brought to school at the owner’s own risk but that no new pets that weren’t a cat, owl or toad could be brought. Percy gave Scabbers to Ron when Mum and Dad got him, Hermes, the owl for becoming a prefect.”  
“But... that’s at least… 5 years?” James said curiously.

“What’s 5 years?” Ginny asked

“The rat. Between Percy starting school and him becoming prefect is 5 years. Then there’s the 2 years Ron’s been at school with the rat.”

“What’s your point?”

“Rats only really live 1 or 2 years, maybe 3 at a push. I know cause the Harrises took me to a pet shop a few years back when they thought having a pet might help me settle in better, but Bast didn’t like any of the other pets and the Harrises thought something that died easily wouldn’t help. You sure you’re mum’s not been just switching out rats every few years so your brothers wouldn’t have to see their pet die?”

“I don’t think so,” said Ginny carefully. “Mum tends to be quite forthright about that sort of thing. Charlie was always bringing home creatures to look after and she always helped him bury anything that died. Gave them a proper little funeral and a headstone. He mostly brought home things that were injured to try and help them. sometimes it worked and he’d wake up to a healed, feral thing trying to tear up his room and Dad would help release it back into the wild. Besides, Scabbers is a magical rat. I bet living around magic makes a pet live longer. He’s been in the family for twelve years now.”

“TWELVE?” Jamie asked bewildered. “I’ll admit I don’t know much about magic pets but that’s older than some cats and dogs live.”

Ginny shrugged. “Anyway, that’s why Ron’s probably so upset, but it’s not Crookshank’s fault, he’s just doing what cats do naturally.”

Even as the weather worsened day by day, Jamie was enjoying her new routine. She would get up in the mornings as usual, and jog down to the pitch with Luna. Sometimes Luna would stay and huddle under the shelter of the stadium’s awning while other times she would go and spend the morning with Hagrid and Fang. Most training days, Ginny would be found huddled in a blanket on the outskirts of the pitch, making notes on what worked well and not so well in Jamie’s technique with different models of broom.

By Halloween, Jamie was pretty sure she knew what broom she wanted. A Silver Seven. According to Ginny and the team. The Silver Arrow was an old model which had been used as inspiration for the leading broom on the market, the Firebolt. But Silver Arrows were no longer made, though a VERY old one still resided within Hufflepuff’s Alumni store, she had enjoyed using it. The Silver Seven was the newest of the Silver range, was apparently smaller than most broomsticks making it faster and better at tight turns, but it carved a neat amount off the cost of some of the other broom models.  
The Nimbus range were good all-rounder brooms. Like what Draco Malfoy’s father had done the previous year, they could be bought for an entire team and elevate the entire team’s ability. But the Silver line was specifically developed for Chasers and sometimes Seekers. Cedric even said he had owned a Silver Six right up until he had hit his growth spurt where he was no longer able to really use it, but Jamie was sure, with her frame, that would never really be a problem.

Neville had been panicking all week about his Hogsmeade permission slip until Professor McGonnigal had assured him his gran had sent it on ahead, so Jamie decided against asking Neville to deliver the order sheet for her broom. Instead, she had written to Kargrot the goblin regarding the upcoming deduction to her account. Kargrot had verified the Silver line as being one of the most long-lasting broom investments he had encountered. And then Jamie had sent off the order sheet by Owl Mail order.  
It was the first birthday present she had ever really bought for herself. Something that wasn’t actually just for practical purposes.

On Halloween morning, Neville met up with his friends for breakfast. He had been to Hogsmeade before with his Gran so while excited, he actually knew what he wanted to get and from where. The weather had cleared up a bit, and while the sky was still grey, they decided they would all do a picnic. Neville was going to get some supplies from Hogsmead and meet them back on the grounds.

Michael was very obstinately refusing to yield Jamie’s present from the Harrises until the picnic itself and he had a mischievous glint to his eye that Jamie thought was suspicious.  
They waved goodbye to Neville, having handed him some money each to cover the costs of picnic snacks before they went their separate ways. Michael, Vee and Grace all made excuses and disappeared in the same direction, reminding them to meet back at the big fir near the edge of the forest at 12 sharp.

“They’re up to something,” Jamie muttered grumpily as she, Luna and Ginny made their way to their favourite disused classroom to while away the time with games of gobstones, exploding snap and such until it was time for the picnic. Stopping only to help Professor Lupin with carrying a large tank with a Grindylow up to his office along their way.  
As midday approached the three girls made their way down to the edge of the forest. And there, below the large Fir stood three Slytherins and a Gryffindor grinning bemusedly. They had laid out a blanket and some pilfered pillows and piled a number of brown paper wrapped parcels around the base of the tree as though it was Christmas.  
“Happy Birthday!” They proclaimed as Michael delightedly dragged Jamie down to a seat on a large downy cushion.

“You guys!” Jamie responded as colour ruched up her face “I told you I don’t make a big deal about my birthday.”

The others shushed her protests. Michael insisted that if she continued to make a fuss about them making a bit of a party of the whole thing, he would start singing “Happy Birthday” on repeat all day until dinner.

Jamie grimaced but said nothing more than a quiet thank you as she was handed her packages one by one.

Ginny had put together a scrapbook of images and notes about tactics and tricks used by small-framed Chasers. She must have gone through hundreds of newspapers and books.  
Neville shyly presented her a broomstick servicing kit stating that his gran had insisted that anyone who owned a broom needed to learn to take care of it. He also had a gift bag of savoury snacks he had picked up in Hogsmeade. “I noticed you like to snack.” He said with a grin

Vee and Grace presented her with a pair of high grip gloves for flying and a very large, thick jumper. It had four bands of colour on it, yellow for Hufflepuff, red for Gryffindor, blue for Ravenclaw and green for Slytherin. Jamie beamed and pulled it over her head. She looked like she was covered in a rainbow.

“I love it,” she said grinning from ear to ear.

“Now you won’t freeze to death during training sessions,” Grace said trying to straighten the oversized jumper on Jamie’s shoulders. 

Last but not least she was handed the package from the Harrises. It came with a note.

“Dear Jamie,  
I hope Mike has done his job and kept you from getting this early. If not, I suppose it doesn’t matter too much.  
Julia and I spent quite a lot of thought on this, you only turn thirteen once. Anyway, we decided to give you the same things we got when we turned thirteen. You are our smart, brave girl and although we know you tend to be more into sport and such, but we don’t ever want you to miss out on anything. Julia was given a makeup set for her thirteenth birthday. She says she’s been getting you to try out foundations whenever you two were at the shops together, so it should match your skin. There’s a bunch of stuff in there so you and your friends go ahead and get stuck in.  
Me, on the other hand, I got a pocket knife. Probably not the best thing to give a thirteen-year-old boy, but you are on your way to becoming an incredible young woman, so I think it’s safer in your hands than it probably was in mine. Go carve your name into a tree or something.

Oh, and by the way, when you come home for Christmas, we’ve got some news.

Love Arnie and Julia.”

Jamie took a deep calming breath at the mention of undisclosed news but piled into her present. Vee squealed delightedly at the sight of the makeup. Nail polishes, eyeshadows, the works came out of the box.

Grace held up the nail polishes and gave Jamie a pleading look. 

“What?” Jamie asked.

“I want to do your nails!” Grace said, “For your birthday.”

“I… guess. Sure.”

Jamie retrieved her pocket knife and delightedly used it to remove the packaging on the nail polish.

“You seem way happier wielding that knife than by the prospect of a makeover,” Grace said rather petulantly as she shook up a bottle of midnight blue glittery paint with a devious smirk.

The seven of them sat enjoying their picnic. Nails were painted, even Michael was convinced to have some nails painted “pure black, no other colours, Vee, I swear.”  
As Jamie began tentatively trying to paint her own toenails for the first time in her life, she was distracted by catching a glimpse of Hagrid leading a large hippogriff out of his hut.

“Hi Hagrid, hello Buckbeak,” Luna called over to them.

Following her lead, they all stood and took a turn awkwardly bowing at the hippogriff and waiting for him to bow back. Hagrid was still a little uneasy about having students around Buckbeak, but his shoulders relaxed when he saw that Buckbeak had bowed amicably in response to all of the children.

“It’s a bit nippy out to be havin’ a picnic ain’t it?” He asked.

“Oh, but it’s Jamie’s birthday today, would you like a sandwich or some cake, Hagrid?” Michael asked with a cheeky grin flashed Jamie’s way. “See Jamie’s not one to make a big deal of her birthday and we’re all endeavouring to rid her of such a bizarre quality.”

“Oh, Happy Birthday Jamie! Must be nice to have the Halloween Feast for a birthday dinner, oh all right, I’ll have some cake if you don’t mind.”

“Do you think Buckbeak would like anything?” Jamie asked, “We’ve got some roast chicken in the sandwiches.”

Hagrid was caught on his answer just as he had taken a large bite of cake but he shook his head vigorously despite Buckbeak looking quite keen on the idea.

Once he had swallowed and been given a butterbeer to help wash it down he said. “Bread’s terrible for his digestion.”

“We could take the chicken out of the bread.” Jamie went on.

After looking around hesitatingly Hagrid said “Oh, all right, he could use a treat. He hasn’t been allowed to be with his herd since the first lesson, Ministry’s orders are for him to be kept separate. Cruel really. Alright, stand well back now, he likes to catch and would feel a bit patronised if you tried handing it to him, that’s it now throw it.”

Jamie threw a nice large bit of chicken breast up high so that Buckbeak could catch it. He clacked his beak in appreciation sniffing about for more.

“No more now Beaky,” Hagrid tutted affectionately, “You’ll spoil your appetite, there’s stoat for tea.”

After some convincing, Hagrid sat down to regale them with tales of previous students, including that of Ginny’s maternal uncles. It was just getting to the good part, something about the two boys having turned the great hall into an ice rink, when Jamie let out a loud squawking noise.

She had been sitting on a cushion and was just reaching out for a small blanket to wrap around herself when the pillow she was sat on was tugged backwards, taking her with it. She sat stone-still, barely able to breathe as Buckbeak, quite satisfied with his accomplishment, fluffed his feathers and settled down happily on the ground beside her, lowering one enormous wing over her shoulders.

Hagrid and the others seemed just as frozen as Buckbeak clacked the underside of his beak against the top of Jamie’s head and looking pointedly at Hagrid as though to tell him to get on with the story.

When Buckbeak made no further movements but to nose about at the ground for earthworms and Hagrid had finished panicking before calming down and noting that Beaky was demonstrating similar behaviour as what most hippogryphs do to prematurely born or sick hippogriff foals, he simply continued the story. 

“Shut up. I’m not a foal!” Jamie muttered petulantly when Michael had, for the fourth time now caught her eye and started giggling.

“Tiny, little itty baby foal.” he mocked between quiet snorts of laughter. “Tiny baby needs to be protected from the cold!”

Jamie kicked him, Buckbeak tapped her on the head again as though telling her to settle down and take a nap, which set Michael right off again.

A massive ginger cat with a bottlebrush tail and a squashed noise also sauntered up to their picnic, which had Ginny cooing “Oh, hello Crookshanks, are you out for a stroll? Don’t let Ron know, he’ll catch a fit.” The cat wouldn’t let anyone pick it up, instead, it sauntered down into the forest, returning later where it somehow got away with two chicken drumsticks.

As the air began to cool, the group decided to begin packing up. Extracting Jamie from a happily settled hippogriff was something of a group activity but they managed in the end, waving cheerily as Hagrid and Buckbeak left for the promised stoat tea. “See you all up at the feast tonight, Hagrid called.” 

No one noticed the ginger menace return for more thievery, but as the group got everything else packed up. Presents neatly in a pile, Jamie looked all round the area a little frantically. “Has anyone seen my pocket knife?” she called “Oh no! It was Arnie’s I can’t lose it, it’s a family heirloom.”

“I’m sure it was just packed up with the picnic stuff,” Grace reassured. “It was quite a chunky thing, we’d have been able to see it if it was in the grass somewhere, come on, we’ll go look through the basket up at the castle with a bit more light. We’ll find it.

But find it, they did not.

~ ~ ~

The Halloween feast had been decorated to the usual excellent standard for a Hogwarts Feast, the ghosts did formation gliding and re-enacted Sir Nicolas’ beheading. But even as the students whooped and cheered, Jamie did not feel up to much celebrating.

She couldn’t help but feel it was a bad omen, she had been given an heirloom of the Harrises, Arnie’s own Swiss Army knife and in barely a single afternoon, she had lost it. And then there was the foreboding she had felt earlier reading her letter, something about news to be told in person filled her with dread.

She barely heard a word as Patty chatted amicably beside her, the rest of Jamie’s friends confined to their own house tables. She barely ate anything but it didn’t seem to matter, the sandwiches from earlier sat leadenly in her stomach.

When they all got up for their common rooms and bed, Jamie followed. Michael nudged her as they passed to give her a reassuring smile and an “It won’t have grown legs and walked off, we’ll look again tomorrow.”

But it wasn’t twenty minutes since they got down to the common room that a pale and agitated Professor Sprout was wrangling up the prefects, who in turn were wrangling the students and marching them all back up. A twisting sensation was churning Jamie’s stomach. Michael, Vee and Grace grabbed her as soon as they entered the Great Hall where they corralled her over to Luna, Ginny and Neville.

“What’s going on? asked Grace, glancing around the Hall where the Head boy and girl had brought all the newcomer prefects into a huddle before splitting up and covering the doors at either end of the Hall like guards.

“Sirius Black broke into the school!” Ginny whisper hissed.

Neville looked pale but also angry with his fists balled up, he didn’t say a word and a lump caught in Jamie’s throat.

“What?!” Vee and Grace exclaimed together.

“Shhh!” hissed Ginny, casting a look back at the main doors. “When we got up to the entrance to our common room, the painting was torn to tatters and the Fat Lady was gone! Peeves was having an absolute ball of a time, he thrives on chaos. He said Black did it. He said, “nasty temper he’s got, that Sirius Black.”

Vee looked about ready to jump out of her own skin.

Neville spoke then, “I heard Hermione saying he must have lost track of days, the fact that everyone was down at the Feast meant he didn’t get to hurt anyone."

They were interrupted by Professor Dumbledore making an announcement.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to the Head boy, who Jamie recognised as Ginny’s brother Percy. "Send word with one of the ghosts."

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

The hall immediately began to buzz with questions.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

The little group of seven grabbed up sleeping bags before finding a space to hunker down for the night.

They were just beginning to settle with the others all whispering questions when Jamie sprang up. “Wait! You said the painting was ripped?!” Jamie asked the two Gryffindors frantically.

Neville nodded, “Yeah, so?”

“So canvas is really strong, tightly woven canvas covered in thick oil paint can’t just be torn through!”

Michael sat up and looked at her, scrutinising and reading her face without the passing of words, before sighing and rubbing his head. “You think he somehow got your knife?”

Jamie nodded. “A knife could easily cut the canvas where hands couldn’t, and I put my knife with the box it came in and didn’t touch it, we all looked through everything over and over.”

“But how would he have gotten it?” Michael asked, “We were right there, I think we would have noticed a mass murderer pinching your birthday present.”

“Maybe…” Neville said cautiously, staring across the hall for some reason. “Maybe he had an invisibility cloak and was right there.”

“Invisibility cloaks are extremely rare, though.” Vee said, a quiver in her voice as though she were reassuring herself, “If he had one, surely he would have done something sooner.”

“Perhaps he can transfigure himself into some kind of disguise?” Luna said with a yawn.

“Like what, turn himself into a plant?” Michael asked.

A Hufflepuff girl Jamie didn’t recognise who was lying nearby popped her head up and asked with a scared whisper, “Can people DO that???”

Neville poked his head up to peer through the gloom. “I doubt it, Hannah. My gran said Transfiguration’s the toughest branch of magic there is, you’d absolutely need a wand for it, and his magic’s probably too weak after 12 years of Azkaban. If someone had stolen a wand, it would have been reported since they’re expecting him to try and get one.”

The girl, Hannah, shivered violently and whispered, “Unless he murdered some old recluse for their wand and no one’s found the body yet.”

Jamie felt sick, she huddled down into her sleeping bag between Michael and Luna and tried to block out the horrifying thoughts which rose, unbidden to her mind of a man with haunted eyes holding her birthday pocket knife in order to kill.

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. It seemed too pretty a night for something so harrowing. Jamie traced her favourite constellations, her mind full.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the hall to check that everything was quiet. A few hours in and Jamie saw a tall figure with curly hair enter the hall.

“Professor?” Jamie asked quietly as he passed.

His lycanthropic enhanced hearing meant he picked up the little sound above the quiet whispers of the Hall.

“Jamie?”

“Have they found anything?”

“We’re all still searching, but nothing yet,” he said, turning to head towards the huddled prefects.

“Professor?” Jamie asked again, hesitatingly.

He paused. “Yes, Jamie?” 

“My foster parents sent me a Swiss Army knife for my Birthday today, but when we were packing everything up outside, it was gone. Ginny and Neville said the portrait in front of their common room was torn, but canvas is difficult to tear. Sir, what if he got my knife? What if that’s the reason he came into the school in the first place?” she asked with anguish.

Professor Lupin stilled before crouching down beside the girl, an action which made his knees creak. He looked exhausted and Jamie recalled with some alarm that last night had been a full moon. “I think… and I have shared this with the headmaster, but, I think he would have tried to break in tonight regardless of if he had a weapon, your knife or otherwise.” he looked extremely sad at that moment. “Halloween was the night You-Know-Who disappeared. The night the Potters… well it marks the night before Sirius Black was arrested.”

“But if he knew it was Halloween, what would he want from the Gryffindor Common room?”

“They say he’s mad Jamie. Strange things stick in the mind of madmen. He could have remembered the date but not remembered the Feast. He’s a different person to the one who went to school here.”

Jamie paused, “You… you sound like you knew him?”

“I thought I did once, a long time ago, get some sleep, Jamie,” he said standing from his crouch. 

He did not need to voice the request for her to keep that bit of information to herself, it had been clear enough in his voice and dismissal of topic.

“I’ll tell the Headmaster about your knife, perhaps it’s only missing, but you’re right, better to know if he is armed after all.”

With that, he left to debrief the prefects before leaving.

Jamie had never been very good at staying up late and so found herself quickly drifting off, simply hoping that her nightmare plagued mind would not disturb her and the entire school tonight.


End file.
